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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICIVIH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


1980 


Technical  Notes  /  Notes  techniques 


The  institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Physical 
features  of  this  copy  which  may  alter  any  of  the 
images  in  the  reproduction  are  checked  below. 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  6t6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Certains 
d6fauts  susceptibles  de  nuire  d  la  quality  de  la 
reproduction  sont  notis  ci-dessous. 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couvertures  de  couleur 


D 


Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 


D 


Coloured  maps/ 

Cartes  gdographiques  en  couleur 


D 


Coloured  plates/ 
Planches  en  couleur 


D 


Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  ddcolordes,  tachetdes  ou  piqu6es 


21 


Show  through/ 
Transparence 


D 


Tight  binding  (may  cause  shadows  or 
distortion  along  interior  margin)/ 
Reliure  serr6  (peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou 
de  la  distortion  le  long  de  la  marge 
int6rieure) 


D 


Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagdes 


\/ 


Additional  comments/ 
Commentaires  suppldmentaires 


Fold-out  maps,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at  a  different  reduction 
ratio  than  the  rest  of  the  book. 


Bibliographic  Notes  /  Notes  bibiiographiques 


D 
D 


Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 


Bound  with  other  material/ 
Relid  avec  d'autres  documents 


n 


Pagination  incorrect/ 
Erreurs  de  pagination 


Pages  missing/ 
Des  pages  manquent 


D 


Cover  title  missing/ 

Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


Plates  missing/ 

Des  planches  manquent 


D 


Maps  missing/ 

Des  cartes  gdographiques  manquent 


D 


Additional  comments/ 
Commentaires  suppldmentaires 


e 

ins 
la 


The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  Iteeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche  shall 
contain  the  symbol  — ^  (meaning  CONTINUED"), 
or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"),  v»;hichever 
applies. 


Les  images  suivantes  ont  6t6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nettet6  de  I'exemplaire  film6,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  da 
filmage. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaftra  sur  la  der- 
niAre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le  cas: 
le  symbole  — ^  signifie  "A  SUIVRE".  le  symbols 
V  signifie  "FIN". 


The  original  copy  was  borrowed  from,  and 
filmed  with,  the  kind  consent  of  the  following 
institution: 

Morisset  Library 
University  of  Ottawa 

Maps  or  plates  too  large  to  be  entirely  included 
in  one  exposure  are  filmed  beginning  in  the 
upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to  right  and  top  to 
bottom,  as  many  frames  as  required.  The 
following  diagrams  illustrate  the  method: 


L'exemplaire  film6  fut  reproduit  grdce  d  la 
g6n6rosit6  de  I'dtablissement  prdteur 
suivant  : 

Bibliothdque  Morisset 

University  d'Ottawa 

Les  cartes  ou  les  planches  trop  grandes  pour  dtre 
reproduites  en  un  seul  clich6  sont  filmies  d 
partir  de  Tangle  supdrieure  gauche,  de  gaurhe  d 
droite  et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  ndcessaire.  Le  diagramme  suivant 
illustre  la  mdthode  : 


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OUJl  JOURNEY 

AJU)LND  THE  WORLD 

an  Blusti-atrti  lUrorti  of  a  gear's  rrabrl 

'"••   KO.iiV    1H..,SAM,    ,,„.,,s    ,■...!.„•.... 

iSlINL,  (.UEECE,  Tlh-KKV,  ITALY,  FKANCE,  SPAIX,  ,:,,. 

Kev.   FKANCrS  E.   CLARK,  D.D  TX 

tlrc«.t,c,U  cf  tbr  itlnilrft  5orirm  of  erf,r,.„a„  l£„6cal,ot  '  *'^ 

(JLDIPSES  OF  LIFE  ]x\  FAR  OFF  Ss 

as  Srrn  €:fjrougfj  a  momau's  3£prs       , 

Mrs.  Harriet  E.  Clark  ^  '  "^ -^l^^'^-V^"^' 


JtxpcvbhT  JUustvatjcxl 


KifoM  UKK    .  n4     rr  rn^  I'noro.Mi.M.ns  taken 

Vl'Tv'.     ;!.,         ^''^    '^^    FACSIMILE    HV    KMINEXT 
Ai.KM.s;  AM,  A  MAI-  S,roW,X(i  ti.K  AUIHOU'S 


JOLU.VEY  AUOLXIJ    JIIK   WOULD 


SOLD    OXLY   ItY  SCBSVIUFTJON 


HARTFORD,   CONN. 
A.  D.  WORTHTXGTO.X  &  CO.,  PUP.LISHER8 

1894 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  t'ongrcHH,  in  tlie  year  1894, 

Hy  a.  I).  WoRTiiiNCiTON  &  Company, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Lil)rarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington,  D.  (', 


tTO  XmbOm  ft  flBaV>  Concern  :  —  Notice  \9  herel)y  given  by  the  pnblishers  that  the 
n.„c  „.  ^„T  T.  „  .         ,       •     .  .  *"'''■  "^  """  ''°"'<'  ■'  <JUR  JOUKNEY  AROUND 

THE  W  ORLD,"  by  subscription  only,  m  piolected  by  decisions  of  the  United  States  Courts. 
These  decisions  are  by  the  U.  S.  Circuit  Court  of  Ohio,  rendered  by  Judge  Hammond,  and  by 
the  U.  S.  Circuit  Court  of  Pennsylvania,  rendered  by  Judge  Butler,  and  are  that  "  when  u  sub- 
scription book  publishing  house,  in  connection  with  the  author,  elects  to  sell  a  book  purely 
by  8uhsa-ipt ion  am\  doeagoseU  i/,  through  agents  that  are  agents  in  the  legal senae  and  not 
indfnetident  piirrham's  of  the  books,  the  house  and  author  are  entitled  to  the  protection  of 
the  Courts  against  any  Iiookseller  who  invades  their  rights  by  an  attempt  to  buy  and  sell  a 
book  so  published  and  sold." 

Hence,  this  is  to  notify  booksellers  and  the  public  that  all  our  agents  are  under  contract, 
as  our  agents,  to  sell  this  book  by  subscription  only.  They  have  no  right  w  haiever  to  sell  it 
ill  any  other  way,  as  books  are  furnished  to  them  only  for  delivery  to  individual  subscribers; 
and  any  interference  with  our  agents  to  indnce  them  to  sell  contrary  to  their  contract  obliga- 
tions and  our  rights,  or  any  sale  of  this  book  by  any  one  not  an  authorized  agent  will  entitle 
us  to  the  protection  of  the  Courts. 

Notice  is  also  hereby  given  that  this  copy  of  "OUR  JOURNEY  AROUND  THE 
WORLD  "  can  be  identifled  wherever  found  together  with  the  name  of  the  agent  to  whom  the 
publishers  supplied  it;  and  the  detection  of  the  person  selling  it  to  the  trade,  and  the  offer- 
ins  of  it  tor  sale  by  a  bookseller  will  be  sufficient  justification  for  us  to  institute  nummary 
p-Lceedings  against  both  bookseller  and  agent. 

V/e  trust  this  notice  will  be  received  in  the  kindly  spirit  in  which  it  is  given,  as  it  is  made 
simply  10  protect  the  author,  ourselves,  and  our  agents  against  infringements  which  rob  us  of 
the  legitimate  fruits  of  our  labor  and  investment. 

Ateiita  and  ail  other  jjersons  are  requested  to  inform  us  at  once  of  the  offering  of  this 
booK  for  sale  by  any  bookseller,  or  by  any  person  not  our  accrediteci  agent. 

THE  PUBLISHERS. 


DcWcateJ) 


TO 


^bc  jpatber  an&  asotbet 


WHO 


FOLLOWED    THIS   JOURNEY 


WITH 


LOVIXCi  INTEREST  AND  EARNEST  PRAYERS 


mf^^B 


|IIIS  l)(»(»k  is  ii  ivcord  of  a  long 
joui'iH'V.  siu'li  as,  owing  to  the 
])e('uli!n'  rircinnstiincos  attending 
it,  <l(H's  not  oj'tcii  fall  to  the  lot  of 
niiui  to  iMiikc.  Till'  ordinary  trip 
around  the  world — a  common 
I'liout'li  tliiny,-  in  those  davs  — 
largely  follows  certain  well-de- 
liiied  routes  of  ti'avel  from  Amer- 
ica to  .lii[)an,  China,  India,  Egyi)t, 
Palestine,  and  thence  to  America 
again,  r/'</  Kui'o])e.  The  travelei' 
necessarily  is  obliged  to  keej)  in  these  lanes  of  travel, 
es])ecially  in  the  far  East,  and  the  oi)jects  he  sees  are  largely 
those  which  the  guide-hook  and  a  ])aid  conductor  ])oint  (Uit 
to  him. 

In  the  journey  described  in  thes(!  ])ages  we  were  '' ])er- 
sonally  conducted"  hy  kind  fi'iends,  familiar  residents  of 
every  countiy  which  we  visited.  We  wei-e  able  to  see 
phases  of  life  and  national  characte«'istics  usually  denied  the 
hasty  traveler,  and  we  have  tried  to  share  them  with  our 
readers,  and  in  our  tour  to  conduct  them  over  the  same 
route  made  so  pl(>asant  foi'  us. 

(  vii ) 


Vlll 


PREFACE. 


Some  months  before  this  journey  began  we  received 
numerous  pressing  and  hearty  invitations  to  visit  ('hristiau 
Endeavor  conventions  in  the  different  colonies  of  Australia. 

These  invitations  were  supplonionted  by  many  others 
from  missionaries  and  other  residents  in  .lapaii,  China,  In<ha, 
Turkey,  Spain,  France,  and  England.  It  was  to  attend 
these  conventions  and  to  visit  these  mission  stations  that  the 
journey  was  undei'taken.  At  the  same  time,  thougli  the 
conventions  and  other  engagements  were  very  numerijus. 
leisure  was  afforded  between  the  meetings  for  sight-seeing, 
which  was  made  doubly  valuable  by  our  kind  and  generous 
hosts  who  served  so  often  as  our  guides,  ])iloting  ns  to  tiie 
very  spots  we  wanted  to  visit,  and  showing  us  the  oddities 
and  unique  customs  and  ways  of  living  which  otherwise  we 
should  have  missed.  They  often  took  us  into  the  homes  of 
the  natives,  and  introduced  us  to  their  manner  of  domestic 
life. 

To  these  hosts  and  guides,  v.-jiose  kindness,  if  space  })er- 
mitted,  I  should  like  to  acknowledge  in  detail,  and  whose 
names  I  should  like  to  record  in  full,  is  due  anything  of 
special  or  unique  interest  that  may  be  found  in  these  pages. 

Little  is  said  about  the  special  object  of  the  journey,  or 
the  scores  of  meetings  we  attended,  or  the  many  delightful 
conventions  in  which  we  had  ])art.  The  relation  of  the 
journey  to  the  Christian  Endeavor  movement  has  been  dis- 
cussed in  other  publications,  and  this  volume  is  distinctly  a 
book  of  travel. 

Yet,  though  it  contains  little  moralizing,  it  is  devoutly 
hoped  that  these  pictures  of  life  and  scenes  in  many  lands 
may  create  a  warm  interest  in  the  heart  of  every  reader  in 
the  people  to  whom  English-speaking  missionaries  have 
gone,  and  in  the  noble  work  that  these  missionaries  are 
doing;  and  that  these  ])ictures  may  also  illustrate  the  world- 


PREKACK. 


IX 


wide  hi'otluM'liootl,  jind  IiIcssimI  iiitoi'iiational  juid  interdeiioiiii- 
national  ft'llowsliip,  of  the  ('lii'istiun  Endoavor  iiioveniont. 

It  only  ivniains  to  Ix'  said  that  tlie  r.  uiics  of  two  of  the 
"|)ilfj^nnis"  may  Im'  found  upon  the  title  pa<,'e,  and  that  "the 
little  pilgrim"  was  a  lad  of  thirteen,  who,  to  say  the  least, 
got  quite  as  mueh  fun  out  of  the  trip  as  did  his  father  and 
mother. 

As  may  he  imagined,  the  journey  was  not.  by  any  means, 
a  mere  holiday  trip,  though  the  holiday  side  of  it  is  usually 
])resented  in  these  ehajjters. 

A  suj)plementary  chapter  will  give  members  of  En- 
(leavor  societies,  and  others  particularly  interested,  some 
knowledge  of  the  results  of  the  journey ;  while  the  addi- 
tional chapters  from  the  feminine  ])ilgrim  will  show  her  sis- 
ters some  glimpses  of  life  in  far-olf  lands,  and  tell  how  the 
witle  world  looks  throuii:h  a  woman's  eves. 


THU'i^^^ 


S.,Cf^^^u^ 


Shown  ill  Red  Lines  on  the  Map. 

FU()]\r  I'oston  to  New  York  ;  tlienco  to  Sun  Francisco; 
tliencc    to    Honolulu,  Sandwich    Islands;    thence   to 
Samoa,   Navigator's    Islands;    thence    to   Auckland, 
Xew  Zealand ;  tlience  to  Sydney,  Austi'alia  ;  thence  by  rail 
to  IVfel bourne  and  Adelaide,  and  return  same  way  to  Bris- 
bane;   from   Brisbane  by  sea  to  Port   Darwin;    thence  to 
Hong  Kong;  thence  by  land  to  Canton,  and  return  to  Hong 
Kong;    thence  to   Yokohama;   tlience   by   rail   to   Tokio ; 
thence  l)y  rail  to  Kioto  and  Kobe;  thence  to  Shanghai  by 
sea ;  thence  to  Hong  Kong  again  by   water ;  thence  to  Co- 
lonUjo,  Ceylon,  through  the  Sti'aits  of  Sunuiti-a;  thence  to 
Tuticorin,  in  Southern   India;   thence   by  rail  to  Madras; 
thence  liy  water  to  Calcutta  ;  thence  overland  across  North- 
ern  India,   via   Lucknow  and   Agra,  to   Bombay ;   thence 
across  the  Arabian  Sea  and  through  the  Red  Sea  to  Ismalia; 
tlience   l)y   rail    to  C^airo;   thence  by  rail   to  Alexandria; 
thence  l)y  sea  to  Jaffa  ;  thence  to  Jerusalem  and  back  to 
.laffa  by  rail;  thence  by  sea  to  Beyrout ;  thence  by  sea  to 
^[(M'sin ;    thence    overland    through   Turkey,    through    the 
Cilician  Gates,  vvVv  Ctesarea  and  Angora,  to  Constantinople; 
thence    by   water   to  Athens;    thence   by   rail   to  Patras; 
thence  by   water  to   Brindisi ;    thence   by  rail  to  Naples, 
Rome,  Genoa,  and  ^larseilles,  to  San  Sebastian  in  Spain ; 
thence  to  Paris,   London,  Glasgow,  Belfast,   and    Dublin ; 
thence  to  Liverpool ;  thence  to  Queenstown ;  thence  to  New 
York. 

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<  )KN.\MKNTAI,   llr.AniXO    TO   PUKKACK 

OUNAMKXTAI,    ImtIAI-    LkTTKK 

ENriKAVKO    AlTOdUAVH   OK    FitANCIS   E.    Cl,AUK 

TiiK  Stkamsiup  ^IaKH'OSA 

OUNAMKNTAI,    llK.ADINd   TO    iTlNKHAnY   OK   TIIK    AlTUOU'S    JOUUNEY, 

Nkw  Impkuiai,  .Mat  ok  tiik  Would  ($ufP  Cpa0e\  To  face    10 

Showing  tlio  AutliorV  '•JonrncyArounil  the  World  "  from  the  bi'^inninKtolhc 
end.  (Kniinivi'd  inid  |)rinti'<l  liy  W.  A  A.  K.  .lolmston,  Kdinburjili,  Scotland, 
fxpressly  for  this  work.) 

OkNAMK.NTAL   IlKAOINCi    TO    LiST   OK    Im,L'STKATION8, 
OlJNAMKNTAI,   TaII,    PiKCK 

Ohnamkntal  IIeadixo  to  Taiji.k  ok  Coxtknts, 
Ornamental  Headixo,  ("hapteu  I, 
Ohxamental  Initiai,  Eettku, 
Diaoham  ok  a  Siikkkle-Hoaki),  . 
Ohnamkxtai,  Tail  Piece,     . 

OKXAMKXTAI.   IxITIAI.    TjETTKU, 

Vouno  Swimmers  oy  lloxoui.u, 
Samoan  Giui.s  Making  Kava, 
Ai,L  TitAT  Remains  ok  the  "  Auler, 
A  Maori  IIoi:se,    .... 

.'M.\oRi  InoLS 

Ornamentai,  Tail  Piece,     . 
<Jrxami:xtm.  Ixitiai,  [.etter,      . 

(xiii) 


13 
20 
21 
37 
37 
46 
49 
50 
52 
62 
63 
65 
66 
67 
68 


XIV 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTUATIUNS. 


PAUK. 


7» 
74 
1 1 

m 

S4 

«7 
»(» 

mi 

104 
10i> 

111 

114 
115 


122 


MaLK  AbOKKIINAI.   ArSTKAMAN,  .... 

FE.MAI,K    AllOKKlI.NAI,   AlSTKAMAN,        .... 

Ahohkhnai,  Mktikh)  ok  Pkoditincj  Fiue, 

In  tiik  Grounds  ok  Oovkkn.ment  IIoubk,  Sydney, 

In  the  Bihii 

Ounamental  Tail  Piece, •  . 

OiiNAMENTAii  Initial  Lettek, 

In  Adelaide, 

OllNAMENTAL   TAII.    PiECE 

OllNAMENTAL    INITIAL   LeTTEU 

AllOUKlINAL    ArSTUALIAN 

In  one  ok  MEi.itontNE's  Pauks 

Heady  kou  the  Descent  into  a  Gold  Mink, 

Ohnamental  Tail  Piece 

Ornamental  Initial  [,etteu, 

In  a  C'ohneu  ok  the  Steehaoe   Deck — Chinese  Gambling    on 
Siiii'uoAKD.     ( JufP  Cbagc.     From  an  instantaneous  photograph.) 

To  face 

S(|\ifitiinK  oil  tlu'ir  linunclics  in  a  corner  of  the  stcernije  deck  was  another 
circle  of  C'liinese  (Jamlileri*,  tlirowing  <lice  and  playing  cardtt  with  a  dexterity 
acquired  only  by  long  experience.  They  were  Hniol<ing  cigarettes,  or  ciirionn 
pipes  with  minute  IkjwIx,  wliich  when  not  in  use  they  tuclted  behind  their  ears 
until  they  decired  another  whiff. 

Aboriginal  Aistralian, 

"Backy,"  "Hacky," 

Ornamental  Initial  Letter, 

A  Young  Citizen  ok  Port  Dar\vin 

A  North  Queensland  Aboriginal,  .... 

Ornamental  Initial  Letter 

A  Chinese  Forge, 

A  Chinese  Execution.    {From  an  instantaneous  photof/rapJi.) 
Placing  the  Head  ok  an  Executed  Criminal  in  a  Basket. 

{From  an  instantaneous  photograph.) 

Taking    a   Condemned  Pir.vte   to   the    Place   ok    Execution. 

(Juff  Cba0e.     From  an  instantaneous  photograph.)  To  face    1.5(> 

PriHoners  under  eentonce  of  death  wear  bamboo  yokes  when  they  are  taken  to 
the  place  of  execution.  The  head  of  the  prison<'r  is  placed  l)etween  two  rigid 
bamboo  bars,  one  in  front,  and  the  other  at  the  back  of  the  neck,  while  two 
shorter  bars  rest  across  the  shoulders  and  fasten  the  long  side  bars  together. 
The  headsman  accompanies  the  procession  to  the  Held  of  execution  holding  his 
keen  blade  aloft,  followed  by  a  crowd  of  spectators. 

Coolies  Pumping  Water  kor  Rice  Fields, 15t> 

Ornamental  Tail  Piece 163 

Ornamental  Initial  Letter, 164 

Fishing  with  Cormorants 16^ 

Prisoners  in  a  Canton  Jail 171 

Ornamental  Tail  Piece, 178 

Ornamental  Initial  Letter 17ft 


125 
13» 
131 
13.> 
136 
US- 
151 
15.5 

15tt 


LIST   OF   Il.IA'STRATIOXS. 


XV 


I'AOE. 

On  tiik  Pkaui,  Rivkh,   , 184 

OKNAMKNTAI,  TaII,  I'IKCK, 19<) 

OllNAMENTAL   ImTIAI,    LkTTKU,  191 

DuESH  OK  .Iai'anksk  Womkn,  suowino  tiik  Olll 301 

A  HuuAi,  ScKNK  IN  .Iatan, 202 

A  Tea   Duinkeu's   Fakadike— Oatiieiuno  the  Chop  on   a  Tea 
Plantation.     ($uff  CpagC.    From  an  inntantaneoun  jihvtograph.) 

To  face    20."> 

The  long  rows  of  ten  pliintH  look  like  the  tMincheo  of  l)ox  willi  which  the 
borders  <if  old-fiiKhiiiiK'd  lliiwcr  n'^'htif  were  once  made,  only  the  ten  pl.mln  are 
much  larger.  When  the  crop  Is  matured  the  lea  garden  Ih  full  of  pIckerH,  imlivu 
men  and  women  in  hright  coHtnmeH  working  oide  hy  Hide. 

OllNAMENTAI,  TaII,  PiECE, 205 

Oknamentai,  Initiaj,  Letter, 20B 

In  Wintku  Costume, 211 

A  Native  Japanese  Giust  Mii.i..    (Juff  (llCiQt.     From  an  inttan- 

taneous  photograph.)        .        .        .        .'      .        .        .      To  face  215 

One  c(K)lie  threshes  tlie  rice  straw  over  the  Iron  teeth  of  a  primitive  thiil  whlcli 
looks  like  a  car|)enter's  wooden  liorse,  while  another  winnows  the  grain  hy  pour- 
ing it  over  a  rude  sieve,  allowing  tlie  wind  to  hlow  away  the  chaff  ;  while  still 
another  coolie  grinds  the  rice  in  a  mill  laboriously  turned  l)y  hand. 

A  Japanese  Fucit  Stoiie 216 

Japanese  Umhuei.la  Makers 217 

L\   A  JaP.VNESE   liAKIiEH  SlIOP, 219 

The  Villainous  Daikon 222 

The  Baiiy  in  Japan.     (Juff  Cpage.     From  an  instantaneous  photo- 
graph.)      To  face    225 

Sometimes  the  baby  has  another  doll  baby  on  its  back,  and  I  have  actually 
seen  a  small  doll  on  the  big  dolTs  back,  a  big  doll  on  the  small  boy's  back,  and 
a  small  boy  on  his  big  brotlier"s  back  ;  four  generations,  as  it  were,  together. 

A  Japanese  Peasant, 226 

A  JlNUIKISHA, 228 

Ounamental  Initial  Lettek 230 

DioNiKiED  Damsels  at  Tea 231 

A  J.VPANESE   Ceremonial  Tea  —  The  TiiiRTY-THiRn  Decree  ov 
Exquisite  Politeness.     (Juff  Cbage.     From  an  instantaneous 

photograph.) To  face    23a 

For  three  hundred  years  the  "Ceremonial  Tea"  lias  been  an  institution  of 
Japanese  life,  and  ceremonial  tea  making  is  taught  in  Ilu?  modern  schools  of  the 
government,  as  it  is  thought  to  give  dignity  and  grace  and  a  kind  of  solemn 
lesson  in  etiquette.  It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  [jreciseness,  suavity,  and 
dignified  solemnity  with  which  every  movement  is  performed. 

In  a  Bamboo  Forest 23{> 

G.\THERiNG  the  Tea  Crop .        .  240 

In  the  Land  of  the  Japonica, 242 

Entrance  to  Nagata  Temple,  Kore, 245 

A  Japanese  Idol  and  Temple, 246 

A  Buddhist  Shrine 248 


XVI 


LIST  <»K   MIASTKATlONS. 


An  Inland  Vii.i.aok 

A  Waysidi;  SiiitiNK 

A  .Iai'anks!-;  Kakmku 

.Iai'anksi:  AcKoiiATs 

OHNAMKNTAI,    InITIAI,    I.KTTKIt 

A  ('iriNi;si.;   |{i(  k  Mim 

A  CuiNKsK  1'ai'kk  :\Iii,i 

"  IIlTTINfi    TIIK    PlI'i;," 

Oril  M    FlKNDS 

A    liKI'KU   (fllll.   OK   SlIANdllAI 

A  JirVKNll.K   ClIINKSK   ( )iicm;sTitA, 

OlJNAMKNTAI,    ImTIAI,    LkTTKU 

SaCHKI)   WlIITK   OXKN 

The  15ii,i,()(  k  Cakt, 

TnK  Famois  Haskkt  Thick 

OllNAMKNTAI,    INITIAL    LkTTKI! 

Nativks  ok  Soi  tiikkn  India 

A   NaTIVK    ViLLAdK   OF    SoiTlIKHN    InDIA,   . 

Ji;\vp:ls  ok  India, 

<4llINDIN(i   CriiUY, 

Oknamkntal  Tail  I'liuK, 

OUNAMKNTAL   LmTIAL    I.KTTKlt 

A  Band   ok   Nativk    Indian   Jioglkus   and   Snaks   Cuakmkks. 
(Suffrage.     From  an  inntantaneoiis  phutogmph.)  To  face 

"If  this  snnki'  should  liitc  yoii,"  said  one  of  these  Keiitry,  at  the  same  thne 
opeiinif,'  OIK!  of  the  baskets,  "you  will  die  In  llfteen  minutes.  If  this  one 
should  bile  you,"  opeidnt;  another  basket,  "  you  will  die  in  ten  niiiuites."  Open- 
ing still  another  basket,  he  remarked  eoolly,  '•  If  he  should  liile  you.  you  will  die 
In  live  minutes."  and  still  another  basket  was  ojiened  with  the  hlood-eurdlini; 
unnouncenient,  "  If  this  snake  should  bite  you.  you  will  die  in  one  minute." 

TlIlO  GUEAT  Temi'le  ok  Madi'ha 

The  Painted  Cohuidou  in  the  Temple  ok  Maduha,     . 

The  Sacked  Tank  ok  Madtua 

Inteuiou  ok  the  Gheat  I'.u.ACE  OK  :\Iaduua 

The  Sacked  Bi'll  of  Siv.v 

Weaveks  in  the  Stkei:ts  ok  jMadkas 

Child  on  a  I-eak  of  the  Victokia  I^eoia, 

The  Poi'ulah  .Madhas  Hint 

A  Wedding  Pkocjession  in  India,     (fuff  ^age.     Fi'om  an  inxtm,- 
laneoiiH  photograph.) To  face 

Three  silent  treading,  knock-kneed,  rassred  oumels  led  the  way,  covered  with 
bright  clotlis  and  much  tinsel.  There  seeme<l  to  be  little  life  or  merriment 
iibout  the  procession,  and  I  i)resume  the  poor  youni.^  jriil  wlio  was  fioini;  to  the 
home  of  her  aijod  husband,  whom,  perhaps.  s\w,  has  never  seen,  fell  as  luelan- 
choly  as  the  solemn  procession  seemed  to  hidicute. 

'!Bhatty"  Making 

Ornamental  Initial  Letteu 

A  Calcutta  Bakhek  Siior 


I'AdK. 

340 
350 
3511 
253 
357 
268 
205 
267 
368 
370 
371 
379 
380 
383 
387 
394 
399 
801 
808 
804 
310 
811 

317 


318 
319 
330 
331 
833 
338 
329 
330 

330 


333 
335 
338 


LIST   (»K    11,1-1  STKATIONS. 


XVll 


A  iiiNHf  Fakiii • ;wy 

A  Ii«»N<i-ll.\iui;i)  rvKiit ;m<> 

TlIK  IJrUMNd  (JllAT •IV-i 

A   Tow  Kit  <»l'   SlI.KNCK, ;U"> 

A  Hindi'  IJuinK .        .  ;M» 

A   ZkNAN.V   C'AUUIAdK   OK    BoMllAY •l>\ 

OllNAMKNTAI,  TaII,   I'iKt'K Jl.VJ 

OUNAMKNTAI,    ImTIAI,   Lr.TTKIt,       ,  .  .  ...       :>.">:i 

A  Nativk  "TrKNoiT," '.\'>ii 

In  tiik  Monkky  Tk.mim.k, U.W 

.MosiilK   Ol'    TIIK   GllKAT    I.MAMItAUA,    F,l  (  KNOW lUJS 

TiiK  Taj  Maiiai ims 

OllNAMKNTAI,   InITIAI,  hKTTKIt IJTO 

In  tiik  Sikz  ("anai ;{74 

DoNKKY  Hoy  ok  Ih.mama UTT 

On  tiik  Banks  ok  tiik  Nii.k :^7!> 

A  Nativk  Koyptian   S(  iiooi..     (5uff  CP^S^-     ^'''""'  ""  i'<xfiin(nn(- 

ous  pholof/raph.) .         .      To  fare    liHU 

An  Kiiyptiaii  school  is  a  {'iiiiosiiy.  'I'lu'  pupil,-  •^il  (ni  llu'  Moor,  hIikIv  lliiir 
IcfHoiiH  iiIoikI,  rockiiii^  buck  and  forth,  niid  tlicy  make  llic  mIiooIiciomi  about  as 
lioiny  aM  a  ward  p(plili<'al  iiicclin};.  i  t^cni'rally  kiww  where  a  hclioohnoin  was  al 
U'ast  hair  a  tiiiiiiiti'  lictnrc  I  n'achcil  itn  iloorH.  Tlie  iriaslcr  h<|iiatH  on  the  lloor. 
or  staudn  ainon^'his  pupils,  who  aiv  ccati'il  inrowwor  proniiscnoiisly  scaltt'icd 
Ihroii^'li  the  rrsi  of  the  apartment. 

Watku  C'akuikks  Fii.i.ino  tiikiu  Go.vt  Skins ;>m8 

OUNAMENTAI,   InITIAI,   LkTTKH ;i!»0 

Ukkoue  a  Caiho  Cokkkk  IIoisk.     (Suff  CpCigC.     From  an  instanta- 
neous photonrujih.)  To  face    iV.tO 

The  stnint;('  iM'oplc,  the  ciiriouH  eostiiiiiec,  tlie  iinfaiiiiliar  erics  in  llie  street. 
the  <liaraeterislie  erowd  of  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  nipn  in  front  of  eacli 
colTee  lioiise,  tlie  sirantre  manners  and  ciistoins  of  the  ha/.aur,  all  furnislu'd  ma- 
terial for  many  days  of  deli;,'hl  in  the  capital  of  K^iypl. 

Stkkkt  ]\IrsKiANs  AND  Danckus  OK  Caiuo 30;} 

PUAYIN<i    IN   TIIK   StHKKTH   OK   CaIUO, 3U4 

Latticko  Windows,  Caiko, ;{9."> 

Si;(iAi{-('ANK  and  Fiuit  Ski.i.kiis  ok  Caiko 397 

Shoe  Pkddi.ku  ok  Caiko ;{'.»!• 

A  Bkdoiin  P'a.mii.y  on  a  .Tovunky 4(>1 

In  tiik  Bn.AK  ^NIiskim 404: 

MU.MMY   OVKK   TlIHKE   TlIOCSAND    YEAUS  Oi.D,    OK   SkTHI    I,    FaTIIKK 
OK    RaMKSKS    II, — TIIK     PlIAK.\OII    WHO   OlM'KKSSKD    TIIK    ClIII.- 

DUEX   OK    Ishaki,.     (Suff  CpCi0C.     Pi'om  a  special  pliotograph.) 

'  To  face    409 

Look  into  that  ghiss  case.  There,  in  that  royul  K'hled  coftln,  lies  a  slirunken, 
withered  niiimniy.  The  lower  limbs  are  yet  wrapped  in  the  cerements  of  the 
Rrave,  but,  the  nuked  skull  is  still  i)erfect  and  visible.  The  loiifj  hooked  Roman 
nose,  the  deep  sunken  eyeballs,  the  heavy  s(nnire  jaw,  tell  of  the  warrior  and  the 
tyriint.  There  is  Moses'  i)layfellow.  For  more  than  three  thousand  three  hiin- 
drc<l  years  he  lay  silent  in  tlie  earth,  until  at  last  the  mighty  secret  of  hi.s  burial 
place  was  discovered,  his  roffln  was  opened,  and  he  was  found  to  tell  us  the 
story  of  the  awful  oppression  and  tyranny  which  he  inaugurated  so  many  centu- 
ries ago. 


XVlll 


LIST  OK   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Hamkhkh   II 


I-AIIE. 


FiiM,  Lknotii  Vik.w  <>y  Mimmy  ok  Kincj  PiiAnA<tii 

(the  I'/iiirdiih  of  the  0]>})remon,) 4(>0 

WllKUK    TIIK     MlMMY    <»K    I'ilAltAOlI    WAM    FolNI),— EnTUANIK    TO 

TIIK   Td.MII 411 

I'uoKii.K  OK  Kino  I'iiakaoii 412 

FUONT     ViKW    OK    I'llAKAOH     IMMKUIATELY   AKTEH   UNWINDING    THE 

Md.MMY, 41!J 

OUNAMKNTAI,   TaII.    PiKCR 416 

OUNAMKNTAI,   IniTIAI,    LkTTEH 417 

The  Oueat  Pyhamiiw 41U 

TiY   THE   RoADSIDK    IN    KoYl'T 422 

A   S»  KNK   ON   TIIK    Nll.K 428 

TiiK  Fmoiit  Down  the  Pyuamid 481 

The  Sphinx 483 

Ounamentai,  Taii,  Piece 484 

Ohnamentai,  Initial  Letteh 485 

A»i)Ai,i,Aii,  Orii  DitAdoMAN 444 

Ounamentai,  Initiai,  Lettku 447 

Jeuuhalem  and  the  SntiutuNoiNU  CouNTHY.    (Juff  Gpci0e.    f^om 

a  special  photograph.) To  face  448 

There  HfaiiclM  (he  city  proiiilly  on  ilM  hills  ax  nf  yore.  Jt  hiin  withntowl  tho 
decay  Df  ci'iitiiricH,  the  "tiaiiiu  of  coiKiiu'tiiin  ariiiU-H,  and  the  deHtriictUm  that 
I'oini's  hi  thf  wakf  of  war  and  iH'Hiilcncc  and  (•on(ini'nt.  lie  rnuHl  he  dull  indt'iil 
who  looks  on  .Jci'iisaUin  for  tlio  ilrnt  time  unmoved,  as  bo  rumembers  all  that 
has  (H'ciirrfd  wiiliiii  those  tiinestained  walls. 

BEtitiiNo  Deuvishes,  Jekusalem, 455 

A  Water  Cahuieu 458 

Ounamentai.  Taii,  Piece 468 

Ounamentai-  Initial  Letter 469 

A  Street  in  Jerusalem 470 

Absalom's  Tomb 477 

A  Bedouin  Dinner  Party.    (5uff  CfJage.     t^om  an  instuntanemis 

photograph.) To  face  480 

As  we  neared  tho  villaf;e  we  passed  a  group  of  ragged,  filthy,  Hore-eyed  six-cl- 
mens  of  humanity,  scinatting  on  the  ground  ntmr  an  old  dilapidated  tont  where 
the^  had  l)een  lazily  naskini;  in  the  sunshine,  Thev  were  engaged  in  the  inter- 
estmg  task  of  simultaneously  extending  their  dirty  hands  into  the  one  and  only 
dish  that  contained  their  food. 

A  Bedouin  Woman, 483 

Rachel's  Tomb 484 

A  Girl  of  Judea 486 

Ornamental  Initial  Letter 488 

The  Mosque  ok  Omar, 491 

Wailing  Place  of  the  Jews 501 

Ornamental  Initial  Letter, 504 

The  Famous  Cedars  ok  Lebanon.     (Juff  CpAge.     Froni  a  special 

photograph) To  face  506 

The  grove  here  sliown  is  supposed  to  have  furnished  the  timber  for  Solomon's 
Temple,  as  recorded  in  the  OhI  Testament.  It  is  now  called  "The  Grove  of  the 
Lord,"  and  in  It  arc  three  hundred  and  nhiety-three  trees  ;  of  these  only  twelve 
.ire  of  any  great  size,  an,!  they  have  received  the  name  of  "The  Twelve 
Apostles  "  from  a  tradition  that  Christ  once  visited  this  spot  with  his  Apostles, 
who  planted  their  staves,  which  grew  into  these  goodly  cedars. 


LIST  OK   M.LISTKATIONS. 


xix 


<nlllotl), 


DitrxK  KiiMM  MncNT  Lkhanon,  . 

Oril  Tl  IIKISII   I'.VSHI'OKT 

A  HviiivN  Woman  «>k  thk  Lowku  C'i.ahh, 
A  SviiiAN  Woman  ok  tiik  Ukttkii  ('i,ah«, 
Oni  liiKK  I'uKHKiivKU  (FufMimiteofuiirlliiui/ind 

OUNAMKNTAI,  TaII,   PiKCK 

OlINAMKNTAI,    ImTIAI.    liKTTKIt,      . 

A  Sim-  OK  TitK  Dkskut 

Nativk  Iviii'itDs  OK  Asia  Minoii, 

A  SVKIAN    Pon.TKY   SKr,I,KII. 

An  K\<  itino  Momknt  — Oru  Hidk  acuo.ss  Tuhkky  in  a  W 


(Suff  ^a0e.) 


PAOI. 

rm 

517 

5a'j 

Ml 


VOON. 


To  fare    TiIW 


SiiiiictiiiirK  ilic  rickety  waK<»i  would  «wny  iwrllnuxly  on  the  verge  of  a  rocky 
|)rc('i|iii'c.  oftt'ii  we  Wdiilil  think  llmt  It  wnx  lU'timlly  k«Ii>K  over,  itiiii  would 
c'lilrli  our  liri'iith  ax  we  fxpcclcd  to  nee  wu^'oii,  liorHcx,  uiid  driver  tiuiiblc  Into  (he 
terrible  iiliyKs.  'I'lieii  the  driver  would  throw  hIniHelf  from  Hide  to  nlde  of  the 
wii);on  to  ke<-|i  It  from  toppllni;  over,  und  the  reHt  of  no  would  throw  our  weight 
on  that  Hide  to  prevent  the  threatcnu<l  cututttropho. 

MiNSKI.MAN    AT   PitAYKH 

TnK  Cam.  ok  tiik  iMirKZZiN, 

OHNAMKNTAI,   InITIAI-   liKTTKH,      . 

^Mosi^rK  OK  Ki.  AzAH 

SiDKWAi.K  Mkiiciiants,  Conhtantinople,  . 
St.  Soi'iiia.  Tiik  Mauvelol's,     . 
A  WiiiHMNo  Dkuvisii,         .... 
A  TiHKisii  Hkaity 

A   Tl  UKIrtll    WO.MAN 

A  SiM/rAN'H  ToMn 

OUNAMENTAt,   INITIAI,    LeTTEH,      . 
OUNAMKNTAI,    ImTIAI,    LkTTEU,      . 

Okna.mentai,  Taii,  Piece 

PoiiTUAiT  OF  Mits.  IIahuikt  E.  Clahk  (Juff  Cbage), 
Okna-mkntai,  IIeadino  to  Intiioduction, 
Okna.mentai-  Initial  Lettek  to  Inthoduction, 
Enohavei)  AiTotiiiAPii  OK  IIauhiet  E.  Clauk, 
Ounamentai,  Initiai,  Letter,    . 

OhN AMENTA!,   TaII.   PiECE 

Oknamental  Initial  Letter,     . 

A  .Iai'anehe  Mother 

A  JAr.\NE8K  Maiden 

Carriage  Ridino  in  .Iapan  — A  Jinrikisha  Man  in  His  Rain 
Cloak.      (Stiff   Cbage.      From    an    instantaneous    photograph.) 

To  face 
Thus  thulched,  our  jlnrlkit*ha  man  lookeil  almoBt  like  an  animated  haystack. 
Ills  i-nln  cloak  covered  him  almost  from  head  to  heels.  In  the  crowded  Htreets 
he  was  continually  shouting  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  "  Hi-hi "  which  may  be 
translated  info  English,  I  supponO,  as  "  Look  out  there,"  "  Get  out  of  the  way," 
ill  order  to  clear  a  passage  for  our  little  procession. 


To  face 


543 
544 
545 
555 
55«J 
557 
559 
562 
56,5 
566 
568 
582 
590 
59;j 
593 
593 
593 
595 
602 
603 
605 
606 


606 


XX 


1, 1ST  OF    IhMSTUATIONS. 


•Tai'ankhk  Rkkiikhiimk.nth.  , 
Wahiiimi  Day  in  .Iai'an.  . 
Sthkkt  Ciiii.nuKN  UK  Japan, 

OUNAMKNTAI,    TAri,    I'lK«  K,     . 

()hna.mi;mai,  iMTiAr.  Lkitkh, 

COLOMIIO  ('llll.DItKN, 

A  IIai'I'y  Miiiiii.il, 

I'lTlKI  I.    lilTTI.K    CUKAIIItKS, 
OlJNAMKNTAI,    ImTIAI,    LKITKII, 
OllNAMKNTAI,    TaII.    PiK*  K,     . 
OllNAMKNTAI,    INITIAL    lil.TTIlt, 
Ooou  NU»HT, 


I'AliK. 
Itll 

<w» 

(Mil 
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[i^as^'^'^i^^^K^ 


CIIAI'TKI:    I. 
ovn  s'lAirr     i.iri;  on  an  ockan  sti:ami;i{. 

The  JoiiriifV  Ijcirnii  —  l);iily  l.ilV  on  an  Ocean  Slcaimr— Alwiiysjoiiincy- 
inir  llniiicwaril  — Willi  is  "  We  "  —  Talvinji'  ilir  Header  into  mir  Coii- 
li,|,.|,,.,. —  .\  |»ailinK  I-odk — '(iod  lie  uilli  Von  till  We  Meet  Auain  " 

—  The  •'  .)/iirii)()Kii"  —  Our  Fellow  I'asM'nizci's  -  (Janililinjr  on  Ship- 
hoanl  —  Heltin.L'  on  the  Day's  l{nii  — Where  lo  read  "  I'enny  Dread- 
fuls" —  j.nrd   I'danU  and  hi>  (Jnardian  —  One  Day  on  a  I'  '■ilic  Steamer 

—  A  Klexilile  Hath  mil  —  Somethintr  of  which  there  is  Knonifh-  At 
the  Dinner  'I'alile  —  Si^hinir  for  ilonieinade  ilread  and  iJnIter  — 
Wanted.  Milk  I'rnni  a  Cow  instead  of  t'roiii  a  Tin  Can — Mrs.  Hnslonesc 
Brains  — The  Tramp,  tramp,  tramp  nl  ihc  I'asM'niXi'fs — Hiiijl-Toss  and 
Slinllle  U(  ird  —  Sundav  on  thv  ( (ceaii,         ".JT 


CIIAPTKK  II. 

ACMtOSS  Tin:  I'ACIKIC  ()(1:AN— SA>[OA  AND  THE  SAMOANS— 

m;\v  zkai.ands  urtjcKD  siioiu's. 

'I'lie  .loys  of  'JVrrn  /■'irnin — The  I'layuronnd  of  Amerieii — Hewilderiiii;- 
V'ejjetation — ISrown  skimwMl  Divers — l{iim  and  Missionaries  —  'I'eii  to 
One  —  The  l-'iitnre  of  the  Hawaiian  —  Onr  Departure —  "■  l-'ire.   Fire" 

—  IJelween  the  Flames  ami  the  Sea  —  An  Fxcitin.i,'  Race  for  Lift — 
Tile  NavifTiitors  Islands  —  The  First  (Jlimpse  —  The  Samoans  as  Nature 
Made  Them — Stalwart  »)arsmen  —  On  Slioic  A, train  —Costumes  not 
from  I'aris— iJaliies  in  IJrown  Coats  — The  (Jreat  Event  of  the  Month 

—  A  Splendid  l{ace  — The  Salihatli  Day  Holy  in  Samoa — A  Kini^^ly 
Homanci — A  Koyal  Salary — Ta|)pa  and  Kava  —  An  Aiijietizinu'  Fro- 
ce.ss  —  Far<'well  to  the  Oasis — An  Awful  Storm  —  A  ]\Iournfid  Spectre 

—  Our  Frolicsome  Comiianions  —  A  Week  without  a  Weilnesday  —  An 
Exag,i,'erateil  Enir|ish  Channel  —  New  Zealand's  Stern  and  KniiLied 
Shores  —  (Joodliye  Mtiriiiomi ' .")(» 

( xxi ) 


XXll 


CONTENTS. 


CIIAPTKIi  iir. 

OUR   WELCOME   TO   A  NEW   CONTINENT  —  FIRST    I.MPKKS- 
SIONS   OF   AUSTRALIA. 

A  New  Continent — A  Magnitiecnt  Harbor — Torres'  Mistake  —  The 
Fligiit  of  the  Dove — "  Tlio  P^ndeavor"  —  An  Important  Astronomi- 
cal Diseovery  —  A  Vast  Nouli's  A-ii  —  Great  Grandfatiier  Animals  — 
Tlie  Huslinian  and  His  Fate — Wiiat  the  Savage  could  not  do  —  Un- 
certain Rain  and  Certain  Drouglil  —  Anstralian  Oddities  —  Confused 
Trees —  Topsy-Tnrvyness  —  Preconceived  Notions  —  The  Englishman 
the  World  Over — The  Evolution  of  the  Yankee  Drawl — Colonial 
Days  —  "  The  Great  American  Desert  "  —  Mother  and  Daughter —  How 
the  Old  Lad}'  Treats  Her  Child  —  English  or  American  —  Architectural 
Differences  —  Big  Names  —  ' '  Elevator  "  or  "  Lift  "  —  "  Barber's  Shop  " 
"  Tonsorial  Palace"  —  American  Inventions  in  Australia  —  The  Homo 
of  Anarchy  and  Unrest  —  Country  Life  reriois  City  Life  —  The  "  Bluey" 
and  the  "  Billy  "  —  The  "  Larrikin  "  —  A  "New  Chum "  —  Modesty  Be- 
coming a  Literary  New  Chum, G8 

CHAPTER  iy„ 

AUSTRALLV  AND  AUSTRALIANS  —  INTERESTING  MATTERS 
ABOUT  A  GREAT  COUNTRY  — ITS  LIFE,  ITS  CUSTOMS, 
ITS  SCENERY^  AND  ITS   PEOPLE. 

The  Houses  the  People  Live  in  —  Stone  Instead  of  Wood  —  An  Eijglish- 
man's  Castle  —  Plenty  of  Soil  —  "  Strathroy  "  versus  "  1229  E.  341  St." 
—  "Bacchus,  Cestus,  Festus"  — How  They  Travel  — The  Railways  — 
Inside  the  House  —  At  the  Dinner  Table  —  A  Pleasant  Custom  — 
Scarcity  of  Cold  Water  —  The  Newspapers — Sometimes  Dull  but 
Seldom  Sensational  —  Some  Budding  Poets — Specimen  of  Obituary 
Poetry  —  Outdoor  Life  —  National  Games  —  A  Mighty  Curse  —  The 
Turf  Adviser — The  Totalisator  —  Church  Life  —  Great  Conventions  — 
The  Singing  —  Cable  Absurdities — A  Mexican  Invasion  —  Kissing  his 
Wife  on  the  Street  —  Gum-chewing  Girls — Chicago  Girls  and  Boston 
Maidens  —  Introducing  Friends 85 

CHAPTER  Y. 


AUSTRALIA  THROUGH  AMERICAN  EYES  — OUR  VISIT  TO  A 
GOLD  MINE  — RISKING   LIFE  FOR  A  FRIEND. 

An  Early  Definition  — A  "  Personsdly  Conducted  "  Trip  —  A  Peaceful  Land 
—  One  of  its  Neighbors  —  Australia's  Only  Battle  —  The  p]ureka  Stock- 
ade—  Uuwarlike  Weapons — Hot,  Hotter,  Hottest  —  Summer  the  Pre- 


CONTENTS. 


XXIU 


LKS- 


)nomi- 
imls  — 

—  Uii- 
iifuscd 
ishman 
olonial 

—  How 
ectural 
Shop  " 

•  Home 
Bluey" 
isty  lie- 


.TTERS 
5T0MS, 


Eiiglish- 
341  St." 
ilways  — 
Instom  — 
)ull  but 
)bituary 
Ise  — The 
mtions  — 
Jssing  his 
Id  Boston 
85 


TO   A 


jful  Land 

L'ka  Stock- 

tUe  Pre- 


vailing Season — Hugged  and  'Pattered  Trees — A  Eucalyptus  Country 

—  .'Many  "  Botany  Bays"  — Imported  I'ests  — A  Pugnacious  Little 
Briton  — One  of  Australia's  Expensive  Problems —  The  (Jcnlle,  IVace- 
iMvinu:  Mear  —  The  Kangaroo  and  the  Emu  —  The  Kangaroo's  Small 
IJrolher  — The  Laughing  Jackass  — A  Land  of  Cities— Tales  of  Politi- 
cal Corruption  — An  E.xploded  Boom — .Mell)ourne  the  .Magnificent  — 
Sydney  the  Picturesipie  —  A(lelai(Ui  the  f^ovely  —  Ballarat  the  (Jolden 

—  Down  in  a  (}(-ld  .Mine  — Getting  Heady  to  Descend  —  In  IMotley 
Array  — The  Cage  —  Brave  Women  — United  We  Drop  —  Suppose  !  — 
Evervthing  hut  Oold  —  A  Brave  Miner  —  Risking  liife  for  a  Friend- 


That  Man  was  a  Christian, 


lUO 


CHAPTER   VI. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  C7//A7;7'r— AN  INTERESTING  VOYAGE 
IN  STRANGE  COMPANY  — IN  THE  GOLD  FIELDS  OF 
AUSTRALIA. 

Beginning  Our  Log-book  —  Mrs.  Pilgrim's  Resolve  —  The  Cldngtu  —  A 
Unique  and  Unusual  Journey  —  Our  Steamer  —  Our  Stewards — 
"Loast  Beef,"  "Olange  Flittels"  and  "Lice  Cakes"  — Preparing  for 
Hot  Weather  —  Our  Fellow  Passengers  —  Life  in  the  Steerage  —  Mr. 
Ah  See  and  his  Wives  —  Mrs.  Ah  See  Number  One  —  Photographing 
the  Family  — The  Ruler  of  the  Roost  — The  Black  Fellows  — Ce- 
lestials Returning  Home  —  Taking  Home  Their  Own  Bones  —  The 
Chinaman  at  Dinner  —  A  Race  of  Squatters  —  The  Fan-tan  "  Laj'out  " 
—Chinese  Pas.sion  for  Gambling  —  Within  the  Barrier  Reef — "White 
Man.  He  too  Salt"  — Glittering  Gold  Fields  — How  Gold  was  Discov- 
ered in  Australia  — Nash  and  His  "  Find  "  —  "  Welcome  Strangers"  — 
Gold  on  Brogans  —  The  Romance  of  the  Morgan  Mine  —  A  Visit  from  a 
Native  Bushman- "  Backy.  Backy,  Backy"  — White  Ant  Hills- 
Wrecked  on  a  Coral  Reef —Thursday  Island 115 


CHAPTER  YII. 

THROUGH  LITTLE  KNOWN  COUNTRIES -LIFE  IN  THE  MA- 
LAY  ARCHIPELAGO  —  A   BATTLE   WITH   A   SNAKE. 

All  the  Days  of  the  Week  — A  Convenient  Nomenclature  — A  Diet  of  Sea 
Worms- Trade  in  Bloodsuckers  —  Reminiscences  of  My  Boyhood  — A 
Hideous  Delicacy  — The  Pearl  Fishery  — Plums  in  the  Pudding  — The 
Pearl  Diver's  Equipment  —  A  Short  i)ut  not  a  Merry  Life  —  A  Baking 
Day  and  Steamy  Night  — The  Aborigines  — In  the  Celebes  Sea  — The 
Connecticut  of  the  South  Sea  — The  Nutmeg  at  Home  — The  Possibili- 
ties of  a  Ball  of  Twine  — How  the  Bride  Wore  the  Trousers  —  Euro- 


M 


XXIV 


CONTENTS. 


pean  ClotlifS  niul  Civilization  —  A  Snake  Story  —  An  I'liwclconiP 
Guest— Di.sloduin,:,'  liis  Scipcnlsliii)  —  A  IJattlc  with  a  I'ytlioii  —  Tiie 
Spicy  UrcfZcs  —  Tiic  Xol)lc  Work  of  tiie  .Missionary  —  llow  tiic  Ciiicl' 
Took  tlic  Census  — At  Ilis  Wit's  Kiid  —  A  SJuewd  {{ajah  —  Some 
I'asseuu'crs  —  Some  Memliers  ot'  tiie  Feline  'i'rilie  —  The  Tale  of  Tor- 
toise-shell Tommy 131 

ClIAPTKU  Yin. 

OUR  ARRIVAL  IX  CHINA  —  L'XFAMIIJAR  SKHITS  AND 
NOVEL  EXPKRl KXCES  — CHI XESE  EXECUTIONS -CH IN ESE 
FARMS  AND  FARMERS  -  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 

Cosmoiiolitan  Iloiiii-  Konir  —  Tlu;  Calmieii  of  the  Orient  —  A  Ride  in  a 
Sed:in  Chair  —  I'plifted  in  S])irit  —  Sidewalk  Shojis —  Pennsylvania  Oil 
in  China — -Fairyland  under  the  L:nUerns — Incense  OlVcrings  to  the 
(lods — X'ovcl  Siuhls  and  Scenes  —  Oriental  Sharpers — I'nblushing 
Swindlers  —  'I'obou'^fan  Sjidiiiii'  —  All  Aboard  for  Canton  —  .lustice 
Swift  and  Severe  —  E.xi'cutions  in  China — Heads  Chopped  olT  with 
Neatness  and  Despatch — The  River  (Jod  at  the  Prow — The  luiti^htiit  — 
River  Robbers  and  Pirates  — A  Fioatinu,'  Arsenal  —  The  Rice  Harvest  — 
Threshinii;  Out  the  liice  —  '"Chinaman  Makee  (How  "—Three  Crops  in 
a  Season  —  Water  HutTaloes — Chi-istianity  and  Butter  —  l'[)  the  Pearl 
River  —  Junks  and  Flower  Boats,  Sampans  and  Slipper  Boats  —  The 
lli^lh  Road  of  Canton  —  A  Novel  Pontoon  Bridire  —  A  Family  Picture 
—  Caulonese  Jade — Oil"  in  u  Sampan,    .     .  14S 

niAPTKli  IX. 


IN  CANTON  TIIE  CROWDED  —  CHINA  AND  TIIE  CHINESE. 
—  CURIors  SCENES  AMONCJ  A  CURIOUS  PEOPLE  — IN 
TIIE   TEMPLE   OF   HORRORS. 

Ah  Cum,  Jr. — A  Courteous  and  Faithful  (iuide  —  Aimless  Wanderinfj;  — 
Tiie  Birthday  of  the  Fire  God  —  Turning'  out  for  a  Sedan  chair — Close 
(Quarters  —  A  Citj'  of  Temiiles  —  Street.s  with  Oihl  Names — "  Lon- 
jrcvity  Lane  "  —  "  Ileaveidy  Pea( c  Street  "  —  A  Changinjj;  Panorama  — 
Outrageous  Odors  —  A  Pestilential  Place  without  Pestilence  —  A  Puz- 
zle for  our  Doctors  —  People  who  Nevci-  Heard  of  a  I'lumber — Tlie 
Live  Fish  ]\Iarket  —  Candy  Stands  —  How  .Much  can  you  Buy  for  a 
Casli  V  —  Going  to  ^larket  in  Corea — A  Royal  Present  —  Juvenile 
Curiosity  — That  Little  "Foreign  Devil"  — The  Cat  and  Dog  Meat 
Store  — The  Original  of  the  Willow  Pattern  — The  Five  Hundred 
Buddliists  —  Marco  Polo  among  the  Gods — Lugubrious  Buddhist 
Priests  —  Worshiping  the  Gods  of  Good  Luck  and  Prosperity  — 
Business-like    ^lethods    of    Worship  —  The    Temple   of    Horrors— A 


fONTEXTS. 


XXV 


Necklaii'  of  Extracted  Tectli  —  Soiiu-  of  tlic  Toi-tii res  — Sawing  a 
Man  in  Two  —  Boili'il  in  Oil  —  I'unisiiincnts  <>(  the  iJuiJilJiist  Hell  — 
The  Kxaniiiiatiun  Hall  — A  I'athelic  SpL'ctack- 104 


r'lIAI'TKK  X. 

ol  K  JOIHXEY  ri'  THE  GHEAT  RIVER  — THE  DAILY  LIFE 
OF  A  tillNAMAN  IN  HIS  0W^'  CUL'.NTRY —  FAVORITE 
FOOD   AND   QUEER   ])ISIIP:S. 

Am  Fxcursion  in  a  FIowit  Boat  —  "Rico  Power"  —  The  Stern-Wheeler 
and  its  Motive  Power  —  Sacriliccs  and  Perils  of  the  Missionary  —  A 
Chinese  Feast  —  Chop  Sticks  and  How  to  Use  Them  —  Lamb  and  ('hest- 
uiils  —  Frogs'  Legs  and  Onions  —  A  Dissipated  Prejudice  —  Shrimps 
and  Banilioo  Root — Our  Seventeen  Courses — A  Chinese  Vilhige  —  A 
Village  School  and  Schoolmaster  —  Studying  Aloud  —  A  Pot  and  its 
Contents  —  How  the  Ashes  of  Grandfathers  are  saved  in  China —  "  Fe, 
Fi,  Fo,  Fum,  I  Smell  the  Blood  of  a  Chinaman"  —  Seventeen  DoUars 
for  a  Cliild  —  A  FireCraclvcr  Factory — How  Fire-Crackers  are  Made 
—  Cheap  Wages  and  Cheap  Living — A  Chinese  Flower  (Jarden— A 
Mandarin  in  His  Blossom  CJown  —  A  Chinese  Temple — Waking  up 
the  God  —  Washstands  for  a  (lod  —  Lack  of  Reverence  —  Fans  for  Sick 
Relatives  — The  Voices  of  the  Night  — A  Contrast 179 


C'lr AFTER  XL 

OUII  STAY  IN  CHARMIX(J  .lAPAX  — SOCIAL  CUSTOMS  — SOME 
INTKHESTING  PEHSONAL  EXPERIENCES  —  LIFE  AND 
SCENES    ON    A    TEA    PLANTATION. 

Tile  I)est  Preparation  for  a  Xew  Land  — A  Terrible  Typhoon —  Personal 
Experiences— "  The  Lord  is  Able  to  Give  Thee  Much  More  Than 
Tills"  — The  Jlost  Beautiful  of  Mountains— Fujiyama  in  Sjiotlcss 
Ermine  — "Fiery  Jack  "— Yokohama  —  The  Rush  of  .liiu'ikishas — 
The  Capture  of  the  Man-of- War's  :\Ien  —  Fun  in  the  Custom  House  — 
"  Crossing  the  Palm  "  —  A  Lesson  in  Japanese  Politeness —  Rowing  in 
Japanese  — The  Sliopkee|ier's  Salaam  — The  INIaid  Servant's  Obeisance 
lieceiving  Callers  — A  Hinge  in  the  Spine  — The  Ohio  Statesman's 
Mistake— "My  Fool  of  a  Wife  "  — Japanese  Railways  — Our  Fellow 
Passengers  —  Progressive  Japan  — Telegrai)h  Lines  aiul  Electric  Lights 
—  Postal  Delivery  Six  Times  a  Day —  Protecting  the  Windows  — The 
Professor's  Many  Suits  — The  "Obi"  — A  Japanese  Joseph— What  we 
Saw  from  the  Car  AVindow  — A  Tea  Plantation  —  "  Father's  Pride  and 
Mother's  Joy  "  — Thatch-Roofed  Farm  Houses 191 


XXVI 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

A   STROLL   AMONG    THE   JIIKADOS   Sl'IUECTS —EVERYDAY 
LIFE  IN  A  JAPANESE  HOUSE. 

Tokio,  its  Parks,  its  Toniplcs,  and  its  Palace  —  Its  University  —  A  Study 
of  Fish  Parasites  —  What  .Missionaries  have  done  —  The  Seisniologieal 
Department  —  An  Artificial  Eartluiuake  —  Exceptional  Earthquake 
Privileges  —  Wheat  and  ChalT  —  Canton  and  Tokio.  or  China  reruns 
Japan  —  The  Frenchman  of  the  East  —  A  Japanese  House  —  No  Doors, 
No  Windows,  No  Chimneys  —  A  AValk  in  u  Country  Village  —  The 
Country  liakery  —  A  Rice  Mill  —  Division  of  Labor  —  An  Initiation  into 
the  Art  of  Orange  Eating  —  The  Jajianese  Shoe  Shop  —  The  Villainous 
Daikon  —  Prices  in  Japan  —  A  Pot  of  Tea  for  Two  Cents  —  A  Japanese 
Dinner  in  a  Japanese  Hotel  —  The  Curious  Crowds  at  the  Window  — 
The  Motormen  of  the  East  —  The  Hilarious  Jinrikisha  Men  —  The 
Waitress  and  her  Odd  Position—  Paying  our  Reckoning,     .     .     .     206 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

OUR    EXPERIENCE    AT    A     CERE^IONIAL    TEA  — JAPANESE 
SOCIAL  LIFE  — IN  THE  EMPERORS  PALACE. 

A  Ceremonial  Tea — "Past  Masters  "  of  Politeness  —  The  Emperor's  De- 
vice—  A  Dignified  Function  —  A  Contest  in  Politeness  —  White  and 
Black  Charcoal  —  With  IMcasured  Steps  and  Rhythmic  Motion  —  Build- 
ing the  Fire  —  The  Most  Solemn  Moment  —  Our  Part  in  the  Ceremony 

—  No  Laughing  Matter  —  Smacking  Our  Lips  —  From  Tokio  to  Kioto 

—  The  Garden  of  the  World  —  Industrious  and  Careful  Farmers  — 
Woman's  Rights  in  Japan  —  One  of  Japan's  Honored  Names  —  Mis- 
sionary Life  in  the  East  —  Flippant  "Globe-trotters" — Cheating  the 
Gods  —  Stone  Children  with  Red  Bibs  —  Confucius's  Chilly  Cult  —  The 
Temple  of  the  Three  Thousand  Gods  —  Big  Gods  and  Little  Gods  — 
Rope  Made  of  Human  Hair  —  How  Heavy  Timbers  were  Lifted  into 
Place  —  Curious  Sacrifice  of  Religious  Devotees  —  In  the  Emperor's 
Palace  —  Osaka,  its  Mint,  its  Castle,  and  its  Fish-Market,     .     .     .     230 

CHAPTER  Xiy. 

OUR  RETURN  TO  CHINA  — THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  CHINESE 
LIFE -OPIUM  FIENDS  AND  FAN-TAN  GAMBLERS  — ODD 
WAYS  OF  AN  ODD  PEOPLE  —  CURIOUS  DISPOSAL  OF 
THE    DEAD. 

An  Obstructing  Bar  —  The  Will  of  Heaven  —  Almond  Eyes  and  Pigtails 

—  Noiseless  John — How  John  Chinaman  Treats  Americans  in  Shanghai 

—  Colossal  Conceit — The  Future  of  the  Celestial  Empire  —  Shoes  Two 
Cents  a  Pair  —  A  Chinese  Grocery  Store  —  Dried  Kidneys  and  Chickens' 


M 


sx 


CONTENTS. 


XXV 11 


lYDAY 

V  Study 
lological 
tliquiike 
111  n'ruiis 
o  Doors, 
;e-The 
ilion  into 
illainous 
Japanese 
indow  — 
en  — The 
.     .     205 


PANESE 


eror's  Dc- 

Vhite  anil 
—  Build- 
eroinony 
to  Kioto 
irniers  — 

les  —  Mis- 
iting  tlie 

ult  —  Tim 
Gods  — 
fted  into 
imperor's 
.     230 


IIINESE 
ODD 
SAL    OF 


IS 


I 


d  Pigtails 
Sliangliai 

slioes  Two 
Chicliens' 


jjvcrs— Varnisliod  Pig  — All()\val)le  Tiiet't  — A  Ciiincse  Hicc  Mill  — 
Arrested  Development  —  How  Cliinese  Paper  is  Made  —  liicc  Pai)er  — 
How  it  is  Produced  —  Woebegone,  Eniaeiated  Faces  —  The  Seamy  Side 
of  Chinese  I, ife— "  Hitting  the  Pii)e  "  — Opium  Fiends — Fan-tan  (Jani- 
lilcrs —  Intense  Excitement  —  Ciiincse  Music  —  Uneartiily  Screeching  — 
I'rolonged  and  Awful  Caterwauling  —  In  the  Suburbs  —  Human  Beasts 
of  Burden  —  Ciuna  and  Japan  Agricultiirally  Considered  —  Rotation  of 
Crops  — Novel  Ice  Harvesting  — Fish  Farnung  —  An  Odd  Way  of  Fisli- 
ing  — The  Old,  Old  Story  of  Mortality  —  A  Great  Funeral  — Funeral 
Baked  Meats  — Baby  Towers  of  Shanghai, 257 

CirAPTER   XV. 

A   JOUHNEY  THIIOUGII   TKOPIC  SEAS  — AHHIVAL  IN  INDIA- 
NATIVE  JlGGi-EHS.  ACROBATS,  AND   BEGGARS. 

A  Delightful  Voyage  — Eicpiid  Fire  — The  Saered  White  Ox  — The  Gharri 

—  The  "  L  Road"  and  the  Bullock  Ban<ly  —  Fan  Palms  of  Singapore  — 
A  Tree  that  Casts  no  Shadow  —  How  the  Bandy  Driver  Stimulates  his 
Steeds  —  An  ElTective  Tiireat  —  Chewing  a  Bullock's  Tail  to  make 
him  go  —  Picturesque  Wharf  Venders — "Papa  Dive" — Scrambling  for 
Nickels  —  A  Walk  in  Penang  —  Mangosteens  and  Jack-fruit  —  Assa- 
f(rtida  and  Onions  —  The  Indian  Juggler  —  A  Man  with  a  Gizzard  — 
The  Mango  Tree  Trick  and  the  Girl  in  the  Basket  —  The  Last  of  the 
Chinaman  —  Ceylon's  Spicy  Breezes  —  The  Waggish  Captain's  Joke  — 
The  Odors  of  Colombo  —  A  Horrible  Combination  —  The  Catamaran  — 
The  Two  Instincts  of  the  Singhalese — Persistent  Shopkeepers  —  Be- 
sieged by  Beggars  —  Baby  Merchants  and  their  Wares  —  The  Cinna- 
mon Gardens  —  An  Ancient  Turtle  —  Brawny  Barbarism  and  Miss 
Nancyism 279 

CHAPTER  XVr. 

OUR  EXPERIENCES  IN  SOUTHERN   INDIA  — LIFE   IN  A   .MIS- 
SIONARY BUNGALOW  — A  PICNIC  IN  THE  JUNGLE. 

A  Journey  with  a  Bad  Reputation  —  Landing  at  Tutieoriu  —  Railway 
Traveling  in  India  —  A  New  Use  for  a  Dirty  Sock  —  Preparing  for  Hot 
Weather  —  House  Building  in  the  Tropics —  "  Give  the  Sun  no  Chance  " 

—  Horses  under  Pith  Hats— Barren  India  — On  the  Ragged  Edge  of 
Famine  — (}aunt  Starvation  —  Disputing  with  the  Ants  —  Buffaloes 
and  Long-legged  Goats  — A  Sunset  Scene  —  A  Missionary  Bungalow  — 
A  Girls'  Boarding  School  —  How  They  Make  up  Their  Beds- An  In- 
ventory of  a  Maiden's  Jewels  — A  Missionary's  Manifold  Labors  — A 
Picnic  in  the  Jungle  — The  "Nine  Lac  Garden  "  —  Serio\is  Duties 
Again  —  A  Bicycle  Story- The  Good  Devil  and  his  Terrible  Bell — 
"Tell  Me  Y'our  Name,  Good  Devil  "  —  Bound  in  the  Shackles  of  the 
Caste  System  —  A  Brave  Brahmin, 294 


XXVlll 


CONTENTS. 


(MlAI'TKIi  XVII. 

SOMK  FAMOUS  CITIKS  oF  SolTllKKX  INDIA —INDIAN 
SNAKE  ('IIAl{Mi:i{S,  TIIIKVKS  AND  HOBUKKS  —  FAM0U8 
IDOLS,  THMIM.ES  AND   I'AEA(  HS. 

A  Fiisciii.itiiii;-  I, Mild  —  (Iiirucniis  Ilciitliriiisiii — 'I'at too  Marks  and  Sacred 
Aslics— A  Man  of  the  Tliict'  Casti-— A  l{()l)lK'r  Villayr —  Calling  tliu 
Uoll  of  Thicvos  — The  Thief  Middleman  —  The  Women  at  tlie  Well  — 
'I'he  (ireasy  Fakir — Pavinji;  Ilim  for  Drifting  to  Eeeward — Mlood- 
cnrdling  Announcements  —  A  Magiiilieent  'I'emple — 'I'wenty-tive  Mill- 
icjns  of  Dollars  —  Dusty  (Jods  and  Goddesses  —  The  Holy  of  Holies  —  A 
.Stone  Bull  in  a  Stone  Hath  Tub- The  God's  IJatli- A  Beautiful  Pal- 
ace—  The  Temple  of  Tanjore  —  Filthy  Water  as  a  I'urilier  of  Sins  — 
The  East  Bajah  and  His  \\'ives  —  A  Wedding  Procession — Tlu;  Kick- 
ing Capacities  of  an  Old  Sniooth-Bore  —  Vellore  and  its  Temjjle  —  Sus- 
pense and  Teri'or — A  I5rave  l{eseue  —  The  (Sallant  Horses  —  Tippoo 
Sahib's  Uelalives  — The  Madras  Hum  —  Tlie  Punkah  Wallah,       .     Ull 


CIIAPTKR    XVIII. 

ON  THE  B.\NKS  OF  THE  SACRED  (GANGES  —  HOlHtlBEE  CUS- 
TOMS-FINEHAE   lUTES  AND   AVEDDING   CElfEMOXHOS. 

The  .Mouth  of  the  Hoogly  —  A  Precaution — From  the  I'arisian  to  the 
Pariah  —  The  Great  IJanyan  of  the  Geographies  —  Ten  Thousand 
Troojjs  nnder  its  Shade  —  The  Burning  Ghat  —  A  Sidewalk  Barber's 
Siioj)  —  A  (Jliasliy  Group  —  Inmimerable  Beggars —  Ueligious  I'arasites 

—  The  Old  Fakir's  Oifering  — The  leathers  in  the  Ganges— A  Devoted 
Son  —  Dying  at  her  Leisure  —  A  Burning  (Jliat  —  Decorations  after  the 
Iiath  —  Burning  the  ])ea<l  —  Hindu  Tlieology  —  Towers  of  Silence  — 
Dreary  Biers  and  Hungry  N'ultuics — A  Cannibal  Feast  —  The  Jews  of 
India —  Why  They  (Jive  their  Bodies  to  the  Vultures  —  The  JJoiidage  of 
Cast( — Inlying  Dear  for  his  Dinneis — A  A'enerable  Bridegroom  — 
Matcli  Alakers  in  India — Tlie  Stars  Favorable  and  .Marriages  FrcMpient 

—  A  Wedding  Procession  —  A  I'athetic  Mite  of  a  Bride — A  Matter-of- 
fact  \Vooer 385 


M 


(MIAPTER  XIX. 

IN  THE  COUNTRY  OF  THE  GIHCAT  MUTINY  — SOME  PAGES 
OF  BLOODY  HISTORY  — HEROES  AND  HEROINES  OF 
INDIA  — MEMORIES  OF   THE   PAST. 

Across  Northern  India  by  Rail  —  In  an  Indian  Sleeping  Car — Scenes  from 
our  (\ir  Window  —  Storks  anil  Penguins,  Monkeys  and  Jackals — "It 
is  a  Beautifid   ]\Iorning  ;    Come,  Bet  Us  Kill  Something"  —  Defiling  a 


M 


CONTKNTS. 


XXIX 


IVddlcr's  Swcctmciits— A  Work  n(  I'fiti(iicc  and  Dipldiiiac;-  —  Am 
Every  Diiy  ('(uivciNiiiinn  in  India  — 'I'ln'  M.'cca  nf  liic  IJraliiniiis  —  Tlie 
Mt^niii'V  'I'cniplc  —  Caw  ii|>ni('  nf  lildody  .Memory  —  An  Awful  I'a.ne  of 
History — 'I'lie  Angel  of  lieniendiranei — Meiuorics  of  J.ueknow  — 
Tlie  Gallant  Lawrence  —  Ha veloek's  Troops  to  the  Ueseue  —  The 
Hero's  (}rave  —Tlie  Cannon  IJall  that  l{olihed  the  Mother  of  Her  Halie 
—  The  City  of  the  Taj  ^hdial  —  The  ^Moi^id's  I'rondse  and  How  lit; 
Ke|)l  It  —  "In  Memory  of  an  Immortal  Love"  —  The  Hand  of  the 
Vandal  -".lane  Hii^ginljottoin  "  in  the  Taj  —  How  the  Old  Kinj^ 
I'layed  I  archesi H.W 

CIIAPTKU   XX. 

oil!   V()VA(H':   ACUOSS   THH   IM)L\N  OCEAN   AND   THUOl'GH 
THK   SlEZ   CANAL  — AIJHIVAL   IN   ECJVPT. 

Some  of  our  Fellow  Passengers  —  Missionaries  and  Men  of  Mars  —  The 
I.iltle  Athletts  —  I'otato  liaees  and  Hurdle  .lumping— The  Red  Sea  — 
A  Glimpse  of  Sinai-- "Ami  a  Half,  Eight"  —  Waiting  our  Turn — A 
Huge  .laek  o'  Lantern  —  A  Sight  Long  to  bo  Hemembered  —  A  Stu- 
pendous I'lnterprise  —  A  Great  Waterway  —  Canal  Diggers  before  De 
Lesseps — In  the  Canal —  Isiualiaand  her  Donkeys — "  Vankee  Doodle" 
and  "Washy  Washington" — I'ndeniable  Desert — A  Woman  with  a 
Supplementary  Nose — Our  First  (Jlimpse  of  the  liedouin  —  A  Family 
of  Arabs  —  The  Land  of  Goshen  —  Pharaoh  and  his  Prime  Minister  — 
IJrieks  without  Straw — The  Fellahin  and  How  They  Live  —  Their 
Superstitions — "  O,  Viigin  ISIary  " — "The  Sun  Do  ]Move  " — The 
IJlessings  Hrought  by  John  IJull  —  A  Ghostly  Reminder — How  They 
Curry  the  Babies— "  Raeksheesii,  I'.aeksheesh  "— "  Oh  Sugar  for  a 
Nail"— "God  Will  :Make  Them  Light,  Oh  Lemons"  — The  Little 
"  Sons  of  the  River," 370 


nes  Irom 
Is- "It 
)etiling  a 


CHAPTER  XX I. 

IN  THE  LAND  OF  THE  PHAUA(  )HS  —  THE  MOST  WONDER- 
FIL  MlSEl'M  IN  THE  WORLD  — THE  MUMMY  OF  PHA- 
RAOH THE  OPPRESSOR.  AND  HOW  THE  BODY  WAS  DIS- 
COVERED—LOOKING INTO  PHARAOH'S  FACE. 

Marvelous  Cairo  — A  Vivacious  Traveler  —  Eyes  wanted  Before  and  Be- 
hind —  A  Labyrinth  of  Lanes  —  Fashion  in  a  Fez  —  Madaiu  Grundy  in 
Egypt  — At  the  Sugar  Cane  Bazaar— A  Glimpse  of  the  Khedive  — A 
Boy  in  a  Fez— A  Ride  to  Ileliopolis- The  Flight  into  Egypt  — The 
Tree  of  the  Virgin  — How  the  Spider  Outwitted  Herod  — Ancient  On — 
Tli(!  ( )idy  Relic  —  .Joseph's  Father-in-Law  —  Where  .Tose])h  was  Married 
—  How  are  the  :\Iighty  Fallen  1  —  The  ^Vlost  Wonderful  Museum  in  the 
World  —  A  Room  Full  of  .Alummies  — Sethi  I  and  Ramescs  II  — Moses' 


XXX  CONTKNTS. 

Playfellow  —  What  tiii'  Hiblc  says  of  lliin  —  A  Muiiimy  over  Three 
Thoiisainl  Years  Old  —  Tiic  Pharaoh  ol'  ilie  Oppression  —  When;  He 
was  |{wrie(l — Tlie  Loealion  a  .Miglity  Secret  for  Centuries — How  the 
Tonili  was  Discovered  in  IHHl  —  I'nwiiiding  tlie  .Muniiny  —  How 
Pharaol)  Looked  —  Description  of  the  Mody — Its  Identity  Kstahlished 
—  Where  is  the  I'liaraoh  of  the  Exodus  '! 390 


CIIAJ»TKIi    XXII. 

ON  THE  BANKS  OF  THE  NILK-OIU  CMMH  TO  THE  TOP 
OF  THE  GREAT  I'YHAMJDS  -  HESET  MY  AUAHS  — AMUS- 
ING ADVENTURES  AND  EXPEIUENCES. 

An  Ancient  Proverb  —  Our  First  View  of  tlie  Pyramids  —  Man-niado 
Mountains  —  Monuments  AYhich  Ni'vi'i"  Disappoint  tli(;  Traveler  — 
Could  They  be  Built  To-day?  — A  Blow  at  the  Conceit  of  the  Ninc- 
t<,'enth  Century  —  Comfort  for  the  Optimist  —  Why  the  Pyramids  were 
Built  and  How  —  Tlie  Tombs  of  the  Pharaohs  —  A  Small  Pyramid  for  a 
Short  \\v\i^n  —  A  More  Intimate  Acquaintance  —  The  Road  to  Cheops 
—  "  Malish  Backsheesh  "  — Unnecessary  Attention  —  The  Comanches  of 
the  Desert  —  An  Appeal  to  the  Sheik  —  Getting  Upstairs  —  How  the 
Stout  Lady  Reached  the  Top  —  Desolation,  Dearth,  and  Death  —  Life- 
giving  Father  Nile —  Beautiful  Cairo  —  An  Ancient  Story  of  the  Pyra- 
mids—  Avaricious  Arabs  —  Destroying  the  Pyramids — Looking  Down 
on  Forty  Centuries — A  Ride  on  a  Camel  to  the  Sphinx — Boarding 
the  Ship  of  the  Desert  — The  Ever-watchful  One, 41T 


CHAPTER  XXIIT. 

ALL  ABOARD  FOR  JERUSALEM  — JOURNEYING  THROUGH 
THE  HOLY^  LAND  BEHIND  A  LOCOMOTIVE— SCENES  AND 
INCIDENTS  BY  THE  WAY'. 

A  Stormy  Day  in  March  —  A  Test  for  Brave  Hearts  and  Stnmg  Stom- 
achs—  Throwing  Up  Jonah  —  Going  Ashore  at  JafTa  —  How  We  Got 
Down  the  Ship's  Side  —  Dumping  Passengers  in  the  Small  Boat  —  Up 
to  the  Ridge  Pole  and  Down  the  Side  of  the  Great  Tent  —  A  Terrible 
Accident  —  A  Highwayman's  Demand —  "  Y'our  Money  or  Y'our  Life" 
—  A  Near  Approach  —  Unspeakable  Filth  — The  House  of  Simon  the 
Tanner— Simon's  Vat  —  View  from  the  Housetop  —  Our  Rural  Friend 
from  New  Y'ork  State  —  "Them  Jimkirridges  " — Through  the  Holy 
Land  Behind  a  Steam  Engine  —  The  Sentimental  Man  —  The  Reward  of 
Indulging  a  Sentiment — Our  Dragoman  —  How  Abdallah  Caught  the 
Doctors  Napping— When  the  Sun  and  the  Moon  Stood  Still  — The 
Dapper  Conductor  in  His  Red  Fez  — The  Rose  of  Sharon,    .     .     .    43i> 


■f 


CONTENTS. 


XXXI 


(ilAPTKIl  XXIV. 

"JERUSALEM,  JEIUSALEM  •  — ollt  So.lolUN  IN  THE  LAND 
OF  SA('|{ED  STOUV -IN'TEKESTING  SCENES  AND  TOUCH- 
ING MEMORIES. 

The  IJriikemuii's  Aniiounceniciit  —  Incoiij^nuous  Modernism  —  Enti'dng 
Jonisalcin  — 'I'lin>ii^iii,>;  Eiiiotiiuis  —  "  'I'Ik;  Joy  of  tin-  Wlmlc  Earlli  "  — 
A  Walk  within  llie  Walls— Tlu-  MocU-rn  City  —  A  I'athclic  Story  — 
Pluii/^inf;  into  tho  Heart  of  the  City  —  The  Various  Siiops — Silverware 
from  DamaseuH  —  Shylock  in  Jerusalem  —  A  Su>rjresiion  of  Wliite-(.'a|)S 
—  The  Camel  and  His  Sneerinff  l'nderli,i  —  Waler-(  'arriers  and  t  heir  (.oat 
Skins  —  The  Dignified  Syrian — Tin  Church  of  the;  Holy  Sepulchre  — 
A  Checkered  History  —  The  Short  Triumph  of  the  Crusaders  —  The 
Stone  of  Unction  —  A  Touching  Rible  Story  —  Vulgar  Facts  —  Moa.sur- 
ing  the  Stone  for  Their  Winding  Sheet  —  Our  Lord's  Tomb  —  The  Great 
Unwashed  —  How  Adam  Came  to  Life  —  The  Cleft  in  the  Rock  —  An 
Impressive  Spectucle  —  A  Disgraceful  Easter  Scene  —  An  Awful  Acci- 
dent,       447 

CHAPTER  XXY. 

FOLLOWING  IN  THE  FOOTSTEPS  OF  OUR  LORD  — A  MEMOR- 
ABLE WALK  — LIFE  AND  SCENES  IN  THE  HOLY  CITY. 

The  Via  Dolorosa  —  Fourteen  Stations  on  the  Way  to  the  Cross  —  St.  Veron- 
ica and  Her  Handkerchief  —  Some  Touching  Inscriptions  —  Outside  the 
Gates  —  Our  Golgotha — "  The  Green  Hill  Far  Away." — Gethsemane  — 
Tlie  Stone  of  Treason  —  A  Wonderful  View  —  Our  Lord's  Broken- 
Ilcarted  Lament  —  The  Russian  Tower  —  The  Dead  Sea  —  A  Marvelous 
Mirror — Absalom's  Tomb  — The  Fate  of  an  Untilial  Reprobate  —  The 
cave  of  Adullam  —  Nebo  and  Its  Lonely  Grave— The  \Mllage  of  Mary  and 
Martha—  The  Greatest  Miracle  of  the  Ages—  "  Dis  Way  to  de  Tomb 
of  Lazaroos"  — The  Wretched  Inhabitants  of  Modern  Bethany  — The 
Tomb  of  Rachel— Where  Our  Lord  was  Born  — The  Marble  Cradle  — 
An  Impressive  Sight  —  Wrangling  Christians  — Turkish  Guards  at  Our 
Lord's  Cradle — A  Sad  Suggestion 46& 


CHAPTER  XXYI. 

WITHIN  AND  AROUND  "  THE  DOME  OF  THE  ROCK  "— CURIOUS 
TRADITIONS  AND  PATHETIC  SCENES. 

The  Mosque  of  Omar  — A  Rock  of  Wonderful  Traditions  — Abraham's 
Sacrifice  — Our  Retinue  — Mohammed's  Broomstick  Ride  — The  Wily 
Jew  and  the  Pilgrim  — The  AVise  Judge  — The  Marvelous  Iron  Chain 


XXXll 


CONTKNTS. 


Jl 


of  .lustirc  —  A  Wily  Jew  —  Oiir  Sli|>|M'r><  iiiiil  How  We  Kept  Tlinii  On 
—  Our  '■  lliimliun"  Slicik  —  'I'lic  (inut  Unck -■ 'I'lif  Sioiic  n\'  Nails  — 
How  llu!  Devil  Drew  'I'lifiii  Out  — An  Kiisy  Way  of  Miiyiim-  llravcn  — 
A  iJotk  Which  Ifi'stsoii  Nolhini,'— How  (ialirifl  IIilil  It  Down  — 'riic 
Way  to  l'aiaili-.c  Wlial  tlii'  i'ii.uiiin  Found  in  tlic  Well  —  Hairs  from 
the  iJcanl  of  .Molianinic(l — TIk!  Stalih's  of  Solomon — Tin-  I'laco  of 
Final  .liidiinicnt — Startlin,:,^  ami  Cnrious  Traditions  —  Tin;  Wniliny; 
Place- Kcal  tiricf  — A  Sciualid  Seeni'  — The  Old  l'harise<'  and  His 
liovelocks  —  A  Sad  liitany  —  A  More  Joyful  Keynote  —  A  iMarvelous 
Itace 488 


1/. 


CIIAPTKIi    XXVIT. 


IN  T1H-:  HOME  OF  SAIN'I'  FAIL  — THI]  FAMOFS  CEDAUS  OF 
FFMANON  — OFU  KXFFIUKNXKS  IN  THK  I. AND  OF  THE 
SFLTAX  — AT   THK    MFUCY    OF    INHOSFITAHLE   TFHKS. 

Embarking  at  .laffa  —  Aniericaiis  in  Syria  —  Their  S|)lendi(l  College — An 
Interostinii'  Hooni  —  The  IJe^inninji;-  of  Our  Tribulations  —  A  Turkish 
("usto;;.  H(tuse  —  Forl)id(len  Words  —  The  Sapient  Censor — A  School 
Boy's  Composition  and  What  ("anu-  of  it — The  Fse  of  Ironclads 
—  An  Ill-starred  Kclu'llion  —  "  No  Mean  City  "  — St.  Puul's  Well — 
Dniwini,^  Water  from  It,  —  St.  Paul's  Tree  —  St.  Paul's  Institute  — 
Humble  Streets  — A  Walk  to  the  Vali's  I'alaee- "  Palace "  or 
"Sheds"".'  —  In  the  Presence  of  His  Excellency — "The  IJouyou- 
rouldoii  " — Olliciai  Handwriting — A  Simday  in  Adana  —  A  Livinj; 
Screen  —  A  Congregation  of  Fe//es — S(iuattin,ij: on  the  Floor — How  to 
Pack  a   Congregation  —  Turks  and   Armenians — "Is  America   on   a 


Hill  ?  "  —  Preparing  for  our  Overland  Journey, 


504 


CITAPTEIl   XXVTir. 


A  HEMAHKABLE  JOURNEY  ACROSS  ASIA  MINOR  IN  A  SPRING 
WA(;ON  — THRILLING  EXPERIENCES  BY  THE  WAY— A 
DANGEROUS  RIDE. 

An  Impo.sing  Cavalcade  —  Foolish  "Franks" — An  Arsenal  of  Archaic 
Weapons  —  AH,  tiie  Turk  —  Anastas,  the  Errand  Boy  —  "IMeat"  — 
Entrancing  Scenery  —  Snowcapped  Lebanon  —  The  Road  of  Paul  and 
Cicero  —  Elocjuent  Ruins  —  Our  Fellow  Travelers  —  Caravans  of  Cam- 
els—  The  Patient  Donkey  —  Pleasant  Salutations — "  Bereket  Versiu  " — 
"May  the  Ainnghty  Cling  to  your  Hand"  —  The  3Iotto  of  the  Spoons 

—  The  Story  of  the  Dervish— The  Holy  Ass— A  Chip  of  the  Old  Block 

—  KeepingOir  the  "  Evil  Eye"  —  "  Y'ou  Dirty  Brat"  — A  Fond  Moth- 
er's Salutation  —  The  Mother-in-Lavv  in  Turkey  —  A  Typical  Turkish 


:* 


COXTKXTS, 


XXXUl 


KImii  — Sliariiii:  n  \'>i<\  willi  ilic  (  amils  'l'liinii;;li  ilif  (  ilii  ian  (ialcH 
—  The  ••  llail  Ki\r  .Mil(  s  '  ^  llc.w  W'r  lldii  the  Wau'm  CroHsini:  the 
Taurus  .Mniiiilaiiis  —  111  till'  (Jiiisl  Ifnoni  uf  Srlim ."»•,',*» 


CIIAITKi:   X\I\. 

ON  TO  TIIK  COI.DKN  IIOIJN  —  CONTI  NTAIION  oF  ol  K  .lolK- 
NKV  IN  A  \VA(ioN  -WillliMNt;  AND  l[o\VI.I\(;  DKK- 
VisiIKS-VHILKI)    \V().MI:N    OF   TrKKKV. 

Walciicil  liy  a  I'lirimis  Crowil  —  A  i>i'ukcii  llcaitcd  Wife — Tlic  l.aiiip- 
Dealer's  Suspicious  Malls  —  A  (iciiiiine  TmUisli  Matli — The  Feast  i if 
Uaniidau  —  WaUiiiiJ:  I'p  to  Kat  — Tlii'  DilTi  reiiee  IJelweeii  a  IJIack 
Thread  and  a  Wliiti — Cross  Ollicials — A    Picked  and  Siii;j:ed  Turkey 

—  Carviiii,'  rp  Turkey — An.u'ora  Cats  and  AuL-'ora  (Joats — Tyini;'  I'p 
a  IJailway  Train  —  Drawinij  Near  to  CunsliiMtiiiople  —  A  l-'auious 
Colleixe — St.   Soi)lMa,   the    .Mar\(lous — In    the    Hands  of   tiie    \'andai>. 

—  The  Covered  Faic  — The  Hlondy  Hand  of  tlie  Con({ueror — The 
•■  Swealinu:  Column  "  —  Tiie  Whirling'  Dervishes — llou  They  Whirl  — 
Treadinu:  on  the  Hahies  —  A  Sti'aimc  Ceremony  —  How  the  Sultan  (Joes 
to  .M()S(|ue — Saiidin,!i'  the  Road  —  A  .Mean-Faced  Monarch — The  Sidtan'>* 
Wives  and  Daughters — A  Timid  Tyrant  —  liieh  Stores  of  Costly 
.Jewels  —  IJeautiful  IJroiis.sii — Tomb  of  Othmaii  the  CJreat,     .     .     .")4.% 


'RING 
A -A 


ClIAI'TKIi   XXX. 

THRorOII  CLASSIC  LANDS  —  FRo.M  CONSTAXTINOPLK  TO 
THK  ("OAST  OF  SPAIN  — INDKR  lil.lK  ITALIAN  SKIFS  — 
ALONG   OLD   PATHS  —  HOMEWARD    HOlND. 

OIV  for  Athens  — On  llie  Trfiirf,afr/i'>f—T\H'  Occident  and  the  Orient  — 
The  Sharj)  Line  of  Demarcation  —  Teiiedos  and  Its  Wooden,  Horse  — 
What  .Makes  Athens  (Ireat  To-day? — A  Charminir  Journey — The 
Ruined  City  and  its  Tlirillina;  Story  —  The  Romantic  Way  of  Climliinu: 
Vesuvius — The  Lake  of  Fire  and  Hriinstoiu — An  Awful  Accident 
—  Where  the  Christians  Fought  with  Wild  Beasts— Pisa  and  its  Hell 
Tower  —  The  Canipo  Santo  and  its  Sacred  Soil  —  Lazy  Venice  and  its 
Gondolas  — Genoa  the  Suiierh- All  that  We  Found  of  Colund)us  —  On 
the  Murders  of  Sjtain  —  A  Royal  Swimmer—  And)ilious  Spanish  Girls  — 
Too  Envious  to  he  Courteons  — A  Memory  of  Lafayette  —  Washer- 
women Object  to  Modern  Conveniences oGH 


! 


xxxiv 


COSTKNTS. 


i*l 


CIIAI'TKK  \\\l. 
oiuKcTs  AND  i{i;sn/rs  OF  (Hit  .lornNKV-Tin:  kavohinc; 

IIANH  OF  IM{0\  II)EN(  K  — LOOKINU    IJACK  WAIU)      IIAIM'V 
MKMOKIKS. 

Tile  (Jniit  OlijccI  of  our  .loiiriicy  —  Aiistriilian  Cniivciilioiis  —  Unhdimdcd 
Kiilliusiiisiu — Tlie  V.  I*.  S.  ('.  Iv  I'riiiiiinl  -  Happy  .Memories  —  In 
Marvelous  Jiipaii  —  A  "  I'liiteil  Society"  lor  Ciiiiiii  —  AiiioiiK  the  Hin- 
dus—  Olislacies  in  Turkey — Forltiddeii   Words — Arresting,'  St.    Paul 

—  IJIac  k  Hyed  S|)anisii  Ijideavorers —  Fncoiira;;enieiil  in  I'aris— (tood 
Nt'WH  from  the  Motlier  liand  —  Steady  (irowtii  of  Kndeavor  Societies — 
Impressions  of  Missionaries  and  Tiieir  Work  —  Cniei  Misrepresentations 

—  (Jloi)e  Trotters'  Slanders — A  Diversity  of  (Jifts—  Wiial  are  the 
Hardsid|)sof  11  Missionary  to-(hiyV  —  Tiic  Most  Hopeful  Feature  of  Mod- 
ern Civilization  —  The  Anj^lo-Saxon  Missionary  and  His  Noble  Work  — 
Saving  the  World  throu>j;h  Jesus  Christ OyS 


B0  Seen  (Tbrouflb  a  lUloman'e  iB^ce. 


BY 


CirAPTETl  L 

A  WOMAN'S  LIFE  AT  SEA  — HOUSEKEEPING  IN  A  FLOATING 
PRISON -LIFE  UNDER  THE  SOUTHERN  CROSS. 

At  Sea  — Ilousekeepinj?  on  a  Small  Scale- Daily  Life  in  a  Floating 
Prison  —  A  (Consoling  Stewardess  —  Tea  and  Toast  in  a  Stateroom  — 
A  Bed  tliat  Never  Kept  Still  —  Lucid  Intervals  —  .Moving,'  into  a  New 
Home  —  Arranfi;in<r  our  Belonjiini^s  —  (Join;^  to  Ilousekeepinir  P^if;;hteen 
Times  in  One  Year  — The  Back  Yard  of  an  Ocean  Steamer  — Sifihing  for 
a  Pine  Stunip  —  A  Chinese  Steward,  A  Malay  (Quartermaster,  and  an 
English  Captain  — Life  on  the  ('/iiiir/ti/  —  Vn(\i'r  the  Southern  Cross  — 
A  Velvet-footed  Steward  --  Doleful  rerstiH  Pleasant  Memories,    .     .     593 


■!'  I 


i 


J'ONTKNTS. 


XXXV 


ciiArTKi:  II. 

A>I(>N(J  THK  WOMKN  AND  ClIIKDltKN  OF  JAPAN-A  .TAPAX- 
KSE  I'UAVKK  MKKTINO       NATIVK    I'OMTKNKSS    AND   iri'I- 

(iiKi'i'i;     .Mv  i:\im:i{iknck  wrrii  ciioi'sticks. 


583 


TIN{} 


rilAPTKU   TIT. 

AMONG  THE  WOMEN  AND  (IIII.DItEN    OF    INDIA  — NATIVE 
DUESS   AND  ORNAMENTS  — LIFE  INSIDE  A  HICII    HEATH 
EN  HOME— HEATHEN   DOLLS,  HKIDES,  AND   WIDOWS. 

Chiltireii  in  CVylon  —  Persistent  Little  Begj^ars  —  C'lirly-I leaded  Karo  — 
"My  .so  Poor"— Pretty  Hrowii  Hahies — Little  Hands  Stretched  out 
for  Ahns  —  Ceylon  Dandies — Pietnre.sijiie  Waiters  —  A  Kace  of  Ik'g- 
gars  —  Tipping  an  Army  of  Attendants  —  Starting  on  u  Journey  ut 
Three  o'clock  in  the  Morning  —  A  Wagon  Uide  of  Seven  Miles  ia  the 
Mooidight — Through  the  Streets  of  Vellore  —  Arrivid  at  a  Mission 
Bungalow  —  A  Native  (Jirl's  Hoarding  School  —  A  Bridal  Trousseau  iu 
lied  and  Yellow  —  Life  Inside  a  Heatlien  Home  — Our  Kcccption  hy  the 
*'Bo"  —  A  Peep  into  liie  "Bahoo's"  Apartments  —  A  Display  of 
Jewelry  — An  American  Doll  in  India  — A  Hciithi  ii  Doll  — Mrs.  Grundy 
in  u  Zenana  — Ten- Ycar-Ohl  Brides  — Child  Widows 616 


CirAPTEU  IV. 

A  WOMAN'S  JOUUNEY  ACROSS  TIHKEY  IN  A  WAGON  — A 
MEMORABLE  NIGHT  IN  A  TIRKISH  KHAN  — TlRIvISH 
VILLAGE  LIFE  — INTERESTIN(}  PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES. 

Learning  hy  p:.\perience  — :My  Traveling  Companions— "  Coining  out 
Strong  "  —  Mark  Tapley's  Opinion  of  the  Sea  —  Our  First  E.vperiences  in 
a  Turki-sh  Custom  House  — Searching  for  Concealed  Books  and  Papers 


■1 


XXX  VI 


(•(iNTKNTS. 


—  A  Novel  (';iv,il('M(lc — In  :i  TiirUisli  KIimii  —  A  Mciiuiriihlc  Ni,i;;ht  — 
HooiMiiiii'  with  Ddiikcys,  Ciinicls,  niul  Horses  —  Our  \Viisli  Uasiii  — 
Over  llic  'rnuriis  ,Mouiil:iiiis  —  An  Arnciican  Spriii^f  Wiigon  in  Asia 
Minor — A  Dismal  I'inspccI  —  Filtli  ami  Dirt  Evcrywiicrc — Sickcnintr 
Siiilits  in  Villai^c  Sirci'ts — lldlison's  Clioicc — In  a  Xative  House  — 
I'utlinLraii  Aiineninn  Haliy  to  Ucd  —  A  ('iiccil'nl  Infant — A  I'eeiMiilo 
Paradise — Dirty  Turks — Hal  in,;;- out  of  tlie  Same  DInIi  uitli  'I'iiem  — 
A  I'laguc  of  Fleas — iSonie  Pointed  (.2>'<-'''t'<"i^ ''-^ 


■S'. 


CIIAITKIi  V. 

(JOOD   I'.VK. 
"GOD    I5K    Willi    Vor    TILL    WL   MKKT   AGAIN." 

The  Departure  from  San  I"''raneisco  —  Tiie  Crowded  Wharf — "All  Ashore; 
that's  (Joini,f  Ashore" — Tiie  Son i;- of  Farewell  —  The  Captain's  Kncour- 
a.i^cnienl — (Jood  Cheer  f(a'  All  —  A  NeNcr-to-bo-forirotten  Sonix — In 
Morelon  I>ay  —  On  Hoard  the  CJiiiKjiu  —  Our  P^rieiids  on  the  Launch  — 
Chatleriiii;' Chinese  —  A  \'oice  from  the  'I'lirslidir — An  Cnaiipreeiative 
Listener  —  Another  Precious  .Memory — At  a  Hallway  Station  in  Oka- 
yama — Japanese  Cnurtesy — The  Train  Wails  for  the  Sonir — In  a 
Chinese  Schoolroom — The  Lively  Little  Junior — The  Dear  Old  llymii 
in  Chinese — In  a  Little  Hill  Town  oT  India  —  Departure  in  the  ICarl}' 
^lorning  —  Surroiuideil  hy  Ohosts — "  (lod  He  \\'ith  You  "  in  Hindu 
Dialect — A  Hrown-faced  Boy  Choir  —  Sweet,  Lingering  Echoes — A 
JMessed  Jlemory  of  Friends  in  Distant  Lands GI5G 


fl! 


'A  ; 


I 


CIIAPTEIl  I. 


OUR  START  — LIFE  ON  AN  OCEAN  STEAMER. 

Tlic  Journey  lU'jrun  —  Duily  Life  on  an  Ocean  Steamer  —  Al^^  ays  Journey- 
ing Homeward — Who  is  "We"  —  Taiiing  the  Reader  into  our  Von- 
lidence  —  A  Parting  Loolc — "God  be  with  You  till  Wc  Meet  Again" 

—  Tlic  "  ^flml>OH(l"  —  Our  Fellow  Passengers  —  Gambling  on  Ship- 
board—  Hetting  (m  the  Day's  liuii  —  Where  to  read  "  Penny  Dread- 
fuls"— Lord  Blank  and  his  Guardiau  —  One  Day  on  a  Paeitic  Steamer 

—  A  Flexible  Bath-tub  —  Something  of  which  there  is  Enough  — At 
the  Dinner  Table  — Sighing  for  Home-made  Bread  and  Butter  — 
Wanted,  .Milk  from  a  Cow  instead  of  from  a  Tin  Can  —  Mrs.  Bostonese 
Brains  — The  Tramp,  tramp,  tramp  of  the  Passengers- Ring-Toss  and 
Shutllc-Board  —  Sunday  on  tlie  Ocean. 


^^.r'- 


HE  traveler  on  his  AViiy  around 
the  workl  is  tilways  journeying 
liomeward.      Every    revolution 
of  tlie  car  Aviieels,  every  vibra- 
tion of  the  steamer's  |n'o[)eIler 
hrin^s  him  nearer  to  the  point 
of   liis  departure.     He   has  no 
Aveary  miles  of  sea  or  land  to 
I'etrace.     "When   deserts   dtiunt 
his  sjnrits,  and  dreary  wastes  of 
interminable,    tuniblino-    waves 
oppress  the   very  imag-intition, 
:?    as  thoy  are  sure  to  do  before  his  journey  ends,  he  can  say 
'^   to  himself:  "I  shall  not  go  this  Avay  again.     I  have  but 
to  keep  on  and  the  desired  home  haven  will  be  reached." 

§1  assure  mv  readers  that  before  the  wide  open  doors  of 


!  !  '1 


38 


PERSONALLY    CONDUCTED. 


■  ..1  •    '  I 

4  ! 


'■t 


the  Golden  Gate  had  been  left  many  days  in  the  distance, 
we  had  reason  to  summon  all  our  philosophy  and  to  extract 
all  the  sunshine  Avliich  we  could  obtain  from  such  sentimen- 
tal cucumbers ;  for,  to  make  the  best  of  it,  there  are,  on  such 
a  journey  as  this  book  relates,  monotonous  days  iind  home- 
sick (not  to  say  seasick)  hours,  and  discomforts  in  abun- 
dance, to  offset  tlie  new  experiences,  novel  sensations,  and 
cluirming  memory  pictures  whicli  such  a  journey  also  atfoi'ds. 
But  it  shall  be  my  object  on  this  ''  personally  conducted " 
trip  which  I  invite  my  readers  to  take  with  me,  to  elimi- 
nate from  theiv  journey  just  as  many  of  these  disagreeable 
and  monotonous  features  as  possible,  and  to  give  them  the 
pleasures  of  travel  without  its  discomforts ;  as  many  roses 
and  as  few  thorns  as  may  be  in  my  power  to  pluck. 

The  preface  tells  the  reader  of  the  chief  object  of  this 
journey  ;  and  the  purpose  of  this  book  is  to  take  my  fi'iends 
with  me  over  sea  and  land  and  show  them  the  objects  and 
the  people,  the  customs  and  the  manners,  the  homes,  streets, 
and  native  life  that  most  interested  me.  How  often  have 
I  wished  that  these  friends  were  with  me  as  I  have  silently 
called  the  roll  of  their  names  —  hundreds  and  thousands 
of  them :  that  some  fabulously  rich  Count  of  Monte  Cristo 
might  put  a  steamer  or  a  whole  fleet  of  steamers  at  our 
<lisposal  so  that  we  could  make  the  journey  together.  But 
since  that  could  not  be,  Ave  will  go  together  in  the  pages  of 
tills  volume  if  they  Avill  kindly  follow  me. 

We  started  —  Ijut  Avhere  shall  I  say  we  started  ?  From 
Boston,  wiiere  our  trunks  Avere  first  checked,  or  from  Jersey 
City,  Avhere  hundreds  of  generous  friends  from  Xew  Jersey 
and  New  York  and  Brooklyn  gave  us  occasion  to  remember 
the  parting  scene  as  long  as  aa'-c  Ha'c;  or  from  Chicago, 
Avhere  equally  Avarm  Avelcomes  and  Avarm  fareAvells  Avere 
extended ;  or  from  DenA^er,  or   Salt  Lake  City,  or  Santa 


r, 


WHO  IS   "WE. 


39 


atice, 
:tract 
hnen- 
L  such 
lioine- 
abun- 
s,  and 
tTonls. 
icted" 
1  elimi- 
reeable 
em  the 
y  roses 

3k. 
of  this 

■  friends 
cts  and 
streets, 

len  have 
silently 
ousands 
e  Cristo 
at  our 
er.    But 
pages  of 

\1    From 
\n  Jersey 
^v  Jersey 
lemember 
Chicago, 
ills  were 
lor  Santa 


Cruz,  or  San  Jose,  or  Oakland,  or  San  Francisco?  If  one 
starts  from  the  place  wliere  he  leaves  dear  friends  and 
receives  kind  and  affectionate  adieus,  then  we  started  from 
all  these  places,  and  many  others  which  it  is  impossible  to 
mention. 

However,  since  the  trip  across  the  American  Continent 
is  a  matter  of  daily  occurrence  to  hundreds  of  travelers,  and 
since  I  need  not  weary  you  with  such  a  twice-told  tale,  we 
will  stai't,  dear  reader,  as,  in  fact,  "  we  "  actually  started  from 
the  Golden  Gate  on  Friday  —  by  no  means  an  unlucky  day, 
let  us  hope. 

The  "we"  is  not  altogether  an  editorial  we,  but  refers, 
when  particular  designation  may  be  necessary,  to  the  three 
individuals  whom  we  will  call  the  Pilgrim  and  Mrs.  Pilgrim 
and  the  Young  Pilgrim,  whose  personality  is  explained  a 
little  more  fully  in  the  preface. 

This  book  is  not  to  be  a  journal  of  what  these  pilgrims 
did  and  said  and  how  they  felt  and  what  kind  of  WT.it 'ler 
they  experienced,  and  how  many  times  they  paid  tribute  to 
Neptune,  and  so  forth.  Such  diaries  are  apt  to  become 
egotistical  and  wearisome;  but  this  shall  be  made  up  of 
experiences  and  pictures  Avhich  wo  would  have  live  in  your 
memories  and  ours. 

It  matters  comparatively  little  whether  the  Pilgrim  had 
a  fit  of  indigestion  on  the  20th  of  Septembei*,  or  whether 
Mrs.  Pilgrim  had  an  attack  of  the  blues  (as  though  such  a 
tiling  were  possible)  on  the  25th  of  November,  or  whether 
the  young  Pilgrim  caught  the  measles  from  a  too  close 
inspection  of  the  steerage ;  sucli  facts  may  have  appropriate 
place  in  a  private  diary,  but  only  old  Samuel  Pepys  could 
make  them  interesting  to  other  people. 

But  we  shall  take  you  all  into  our  confidence  in  regard 
to  matters  of  common  interest.    We  will,  in  other  words, 


40 


FAREWELL  TO   THE   GOLDEN   WEST. 


m 


i 


look  for  you  through  the  most  j)owerful  iichl-ghisses  wo  can 
coniniand,  ut  evorythin<^  high  jind  h)\v,  c(jninionphice  and 
extraordinary,  wliich  wetliiidc  wouhl  interest  you.  AVe  will 
not  merely  gaze  at  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  the  h)fty  moun- 
tain ])eaks,  and  sublime  characters  which  come  Avithin  our 
range.  AVe  will  look  for  you  at  the  common  people  and 
their  common  Avays ;  at  the  little  street  gamin  as  w^ell  as  the 
lords  and  ladies  of  higii  degree  ;  at  the  trivial  things  Avhich 
many  travelers  think  beneath  their  notice ;  and  es})ecially 
at  the  unusual  and  the  uncommon  Avhich  it  is  necessary  to 
travel  t(>n  thousand  leagues  of  sea  and  land  to  view. 

Now  that  we  undi.'rstand  each  other  so  fully,  dear  read- 
ers, let  us  take  a  parting  look  at  "  the  land  of  the  free  and 
the  h(jme  of  the  brave,"  which  we  shall  not  see  again  for 
nearly  a  twelvemonth. 

The  steamship  M(n'i'j)Ofi<i  is  moving  away  from  her 
San  Francisco  pier.  The  llutteriiig  white  handkerchiefs  of 
the  crowd  of  (Jalifornian  Endeavorers  on  the  dock,  whose 
welcome  has  partaken  of  all  the  unbounded  hospitality  of 
the  Golden  West,  are  gi-o\ving  dimmer  every  moment,  their 
"  God  be  with  vou  till  we  meet  again"  sounds  fainter  and 
fainter,  until  at  last  they  are  lost  to  eye  and  ear,  and  wuth  a 
lump  in  our  throats  at  the  thought  of  the  land  and  friends 
we  are  leaving  behind  us,  Ave  turn  to  look  at  the  good  ship 
Avhich  for  nearly  a  month  is  to  be  our  home,  and  at  the 
passengers  who  are  to  be  our  neighbors. 

Not  a  matter  of  snudl  moment  is  this  of  home  and  neigh- 
bors on  such  a  voyage  as  that  from  San  Francisco  to  Syd- 
ney. On  a  little  run  of  live  or  six  days  on  an  ocean  grey- 
hound across  the  Athmtic,  it  matters  little,  comparatively, 
Avhat  are  one's  surroundings.  One  can  misanthro])ically 
take  to  his  berth  or  shut  himself  up  in  his  stateroom  for 
such  a  journey  ;    but  when  it  comes  to  the  magnificent  dis- 


ti 


(iAMHLIX({    ON    SIIII'HOAUI). 


41 


o  can 
!  and 
e  will 
inoun- 
lu  our 
le  and 
as  the 
Avliich 
lecially 
sary  to 

V  read- 
fee  ttnd 
i-iiin  for 

3m    lier 
hiet's  of 
:,  whose 
ility  of 
nt,  their 
ter  and 
with  a 
friends 
ood  ship 
at  the 

d  nei<;h- 
to  Syd- 
an  grey- 
iratively, 
ropically 
room  for 
icent  dis- 


1:T 
t 


tancos  of  tlie  Pacific  it  is  (|uite  a  difi'erent  thinfjf,  and  one 
feels  almost  as  much  interest  in  his  surroundings  as  a  nunis- 
ter  in  his  new  parish  or  a  freshman  in  his  new  classmates. 

All  modern  ocean  steamers  for  ])assenger  travel  liave 
many  things  in  common  ;  tliey  are  all  long  and  narrow,  with 
staterooms  and  dining  saloon  helow,  and  a  ])romena(le  deck 
or  social  hall  ahove.  The  Tacific  liners,  es})ecially  those  for 
the  Australian  ])orts,  are  built  nujre  for  hot  weatlier  than 
the  Atlantic  Heet,  with  the  most  desirabhi  staterooms  on 
the  upper  deck,  and  with  awnings  to  keep  off  tlie  sun  which 
on  the  Xoi'th  Atlantic  is  always  nu^re  agreeable  than  other- 
wise. 

But  let  us  look  at  our  fellow  passengers.  As  all  (iaul 
was  divided  into  tlir(>e  ])arts,  so  all  tlu!  passengers  on  an 
ocean  steamer  may  be  divided  into  two  parts;  the  gamblers 
and  the  non-gandjlers.  I  am  sorry  to  say  tliat  on  our  steamer 
the  fornuM'  outnumber  the  lattei'.  Not  that  they  are  pro- 
fessicjnal  gand^lers  for  the  most])art ;  they  Avould  be  shocked 
at  any  such  renu)te  suggestion,  but  they  hel[)  make  up  "the 
pool,"  take  a  chance  in  the  "Calcutta  Sweep,"  and  eagerly 
scan  the  recoi'd  of  the  shi[)'s  run  each  day  to  se(^  whether 
they  have  lost  or  won. 

The  moral  sense,  on  the  nuitter  of  gand)ling  at  least, 
seems  to  be  blunted  on  shi[)board  ;  the  sea  air  has  a  demoral- 
izing effect  on  the  finer  scMisibilities.     There  is  Loi'd , 

for  instance,  who  looks  like  a  gi'een  country  youth  from  the 
backwoods  of  America,  only  that  his  clothes  do  not  fit  so 
well  as  the  average  cowboy's  fit  him.  One  would  think,  to 
look  at  his  innocent  face,  that  no  guile  lurked  behind  it,  but 
he  spends  day  after  day  in  the  reeking  atmosidu,»re  of  the 
smoking  room,  with  his  pile  of  money  and  "chips"  before 
him,  as  eager  over  the  cards  as  though  his  life  depended  on 
them.     There,  too,   is  Sir 


a  great  nuin  in  his  own 


r 


i2 


REVELATIONS  OF  CHARACTER. 


i! 


land,  I  understand,  wlio,  doubtless,  poses  every  year  at  elec- 
tion time  as  a  model  of  all  the  virtues,  and  an  example  to 
all  the  3'outh.  lie  can  find  nothing  better  to  do  than  to  bet 
on  every  day's  run,  and  to  abet  the  young  lord  whose  tem- 
l)orary  guardian  he  is,  and  before  Avhom  he  should  set  a 
good  example,  in  all  his  gambling  operations.     There,  too, 

is  Mrs. ,  who  doubtless,   considers  herself  a  ])erfect 

lady.  Alas,  I  believe  the  register  says  she  is  from  Boston  ! 
She  is  eagerness  itself  to  know  whether  her  little  venture  in 
the  Calcutta  Sweep  is  like  to  yield  her  any  dividends. 

But  there  are  some,  I  am  glad  to  say,  who  have  as  much 
l)rinciple  on  sea  as  on  land ;  who  are  not  tempted  to  lay 
aside  their  ordinary  morals  because  of  the  comparative 
seclusion  of  an  ocean  steamer. 

The  fact  is,  a  voyage  of  this  sort  brings  out  and  accent- 
uates the  traits  which  on  shore  are  covered  up  by  the 
conventionalities  of  life.  An  ocean  trip  is  a  kind  of  a 
judgment  day  in  its  revelation  of  character.  In  this  little 
company  of  a  few  score  of  people  is  a  little  world  with  all 
the  hopes,  fears,  joys,  and  ambitions  of  the  larger  wf)rld 
from  which  avc  have  come.  The  gambler  at  heart,  who  on 
shore  has  not  a  chance  because  of  public  opinion  to  risk  a 
nickel  or  turn  up  a  card,  is  here  a  gambler  in  reality;  the 
tippler,  who  at  home  seldom  takes  a  drink,  here  without  any 
reproach  can  have  his  bottle  at  every  meal  as  well  as  be- 
tween meals;  the  impatient  mother  (we  almost  always  find 
one  such)  here  has  little  to  do  save  to  scold  her  unfortunate 
babies;  the  devoted  lover  can  hold  his  sweetheart's  hand  all 
day  long;  the  flashy  novel  reader,  with  no  bread  and  butter 
to  earii;  can  peruse  his  ''penny  dreadfuls"  from  morning  to 
night. 

The  real  lady  and  gentleman,  I  am  glad  to  say,  are  also 
on  board,  and  their  kindness  and  unassuming  unselfishness 


IN  THE  EARLY  MORNINO. 


43 


t  clec- 
iple  to 
to  bet 
iG  tein- 
.  set  a 
re,  too, 
perfect 
Boston ! 
iture  in 

as  much 
1  to  lay 
iparative 

i  accent- 
1  by  the 
ind  of   a 
his  little 
with  all 
:er  "\vorld 
who  on 
to  risk  a 
ality;  the 
bout  any 
ell  as  be- 
ways  ftnd 
nfortuniite 
s  bantl  all 
and  butter 
iiorning  to 

ly,  are  also 


■i 
3 


are  also  accentuated  as  they  show  us  how,  amid  the  trying 
circumstances  of  life  on  sliijjboard,  true  courtesy  can  exist. 

Perliaps  you  would  like  to  know  liow  wo  ])ass  the  day. 
Set!  itno  (h'-scc  oz/oics  (from  one  learn  all)  is  a  K(Mnan  proverb 
wliieli  a})plies  particularly  to  life  on  a  Pacific  Ocean  steamer, 
where  the  monotony  of  daily  life  is  scarcely  ever  broken 
even  by  the  unwelcome  advent  of  a  storm.  Bright  skies, 
brisk  but  not  violent  trade  winds,  dancing  Avhite  ca})s,  and  a 
jierpetual,  long,  nauseating  swell,  are  the  characteristics  of 
sea  and  sky,  and  one  dav  is  as  much  like  another  in  all  out- 
ward  as{)ects  as  the  proverbial  two  peas  in  a  pod. 

Before  daylight  we  hear  the  deck  hands  war>hing  off  the 
decks,  for  scrupulous  neatness  is  one  of  the  virtues  of  these 
ocean  steamers,  then  Ave  know  that  there  is  time  only  to 
stretch  and  yawn  and  co(]uette  with  Morpheus  for  a  little 
while  before  rising,  for  the  early  morning  hours  in  these 
tropical  latitudes  arc  the  choicest  of  the  day  and  Ave  Avould 
make  the  most  of  them. 

At  six  Avill  come  the  salt  AA'ater  i)lunge.  A  huge  canvas 
ijath  tub  is  arranged  on  the  alter-deck,  Avell  screened  from 
eves  polite  bA'  sail  cloths ;  and  toAvard  this  novel  bath  mav 
be  seen  stealing  in  the  early  hours  certain  nondescri[)t  male 
iigures  clad  in  Indian  ])ajamas.  A  large  hose  brings  the 
water  in  great  volume  straight  from  the  briny  ocean  to  the 
flexible  bath,  so  that  every  few  minutes  the  water  is 
changed.  Into  this  cool  and  Avholesome  tank  Ave  plunge, 
Avhile  the  umlulating  deck  continually  splashes  the  Avater  of 
our  bath  into  the  sea  again.  But  there  is  plenty  left.  AVe 
need  not  fear  a  famine  of  salt  Avater,  or  be  sparing  of  the 
refreshing  fluid.  If  there  is  one  thing  of  Avhich  there  is 
enough  in  this  Avorld,  it  is  the  Pacific  Ocean.  We  are  glad 
to  make  such  good  use  of  a  little  of  it.  After  the  bath  Ave 
dress  for  breakfast,  i)ronienade,  read,  write,  or  Avatch  the 


m 


^ 


;;<  ;ii 


44 


APPALLING   MONOTONY   AT   .MKAL  TLAIE. 


ever  restless  ocean,  as  the  mood  seizes  us,  until  tiio  gong  for 
breakfast  sounds. 

The  ineals  on  shipboard  are  nuich  like  hotel  meals  on 
shore;  the  different  steamer  lines  vary  just  as  hotels  vary, 
some  having  a  good,  some  a  bad,  and  some  an  indifferent 
cuisine;  but  even  on  the  best  of  steamers  an  appalling 
monotony  comes  to  ])revail  after  a  little.  The  meals  seem 
to  accentuate  the  sameness  of  the  voyage.  The  fried  sole 
tastes  like  the  mullet  and  the  mullet  like  the  cod  ;  the  chops 
and  the  steaks  seem  to  be  cut  off  of  different  sides  of  the 
same  animal,  Jind  to  have  been  cooked  in  the  same  frying- 
l)an ;  the  tea  and  the  coffee  are  often  of  the  railroad  eating- 
house  order,  and,  on  the  whole,  the  less  said  about  breakfast, 
dinner,  and  supper  at  sea  the  better.  Lot  the  gournuind 
and  o])icure  beware  of  a  long  ocean  voyage.  Even  the  most 
uncomplaining  man  may  be  excused  foi'  sighing  for  his 
mother's  honu^made  broad  and  butter,  and  for  milk  drawn 
from  a  cow  instead  of  from  a  tin  can. 

Breakfast  is  soon  over  and  then  the  passengers,  except 
those  Avho  lind  their  pleasure  in  the  suKjking-room,  stretch 
out  their  steamer  chairs  and  in  turn  stretch  themselves  out 
on  tliom,  and  the  lazy  life  of  a  lazy  day  at  sea  begins. 

'*  J>ut  why  do  you  not  arouse  yourselves  to  intellectual 
activity  r'  I  liear  ]\[rs,  Bostonose  ]Jrains  inquire.  ""What 
glorious  hours  to  read!  AVhat  high  communion  you  may 
have  with  Shakespeare  and  Milton,  with  Dante  and  Goethe ! 
What  rare  oj>portunitios  for  writing  and  meditation  and 
communion  with  nature ! "  "  Ah,  yes,  my  dear  Mrs.  Bi-ains, 
that  all  sounds  very  avoU  on  paper,  and  doubtless  if  this 
were  a  Avoi'k  of  fiction  it  would  contain  some  rare  passages 
concerning  the  intellectual  activity  of  its  traveling  hero  and 
heroine;  how  thev  learned  three  lano-uaws  bv  the  IMoister- 
schaft  System  and  conquered  the  intricacies  of  the  Integral 


n 


LAZV    LIFE   AT   SKA. 


45 


Calculus,  and  becamo  ]m)ficiont  in  Astronomy  and  Tliooso- 
phy  dui'ing  a  four  Avoeks'  voyage  to  Austi'alia,  Hut  this  is  a 
veracious  chronicle  of  actual  fact,  and,  if  it  is  not  veiy  Mat- 
tering to  the  vo3'a<!^or8  to  say  it,  it  must  be  confessed  that 
tiiere  is  verv  little  stimulus  to  intellectual  exertion  on  shii)- 
board.  Even  the  best  sailors  acknowle(l<>'<>  this,  and  the 
worst  are  too  much  occui)ied  with  a<^onized  thoughts  of  tlicir 
stomachs  to  expend  much  on  the  cultivation  of  their  minds. 
So,  instead  of  iinding  the  deck  transformed  into  a  busy  hive 
of  intellectual  workers  after  breakfast,  you  will  see  a  long 
line  of  steamer  chaii's,  each  Avith  its  lolling  occupant,  who 
looks  as  though  the  chief  end  of  man  was  to  ])ass  away  the 
time  as  comfortably  and  expeditiously  as  ])ossible. 

"Books  and  work  and  healthful  play"  arc  represented, 
however,  even  on  shipboard;  the  former,  it  must  bo  con- 
fessed, mostly  by  volumes  drawn  from  the  Jfa/'!j)osa''s 
library,  which  is  signilicantly  made  up,  nine  parts  of  novels 
and  one  pai't  of  books  of  travel.  The  "work"  is  repre- 
sented by  the  crochet  and  emln'oideiy  of  the  ladies,  and 
''the  plav"  bv  the  two  or  three  small  bovs  whoso  natures 
seem  to  be  the  same  in  mid-Pacific  as  anywhere  else. 

My  young  readers  Avill  like  to  know  what  games  are  in 
vogue  on  shipboard.  The  standard  games  outside  of  the 
smoking-i'oom  are  ring-toss  and  shuifle-board.  King-toss 
is  too  familiar  to  need  description,  but  shurtle-board  seems  to 
belong  peculiarly  to  the  ship's  deck,  and  furnishes  excellent 
exercise  for  those  who  have  some  little  muscle  at  command. 

The  game  requires  not  only  considerable  muscular 
power,  and  hence  furnishes  good  exercise,  but  gives  oc- 
casion for  much  skill  in  knocking  the  opi)onent  out,  and 
occupying  the  highest  squares,  for  the  motion  of  the  ever- 
undulating  deck  must  be  calculated,  the  roll  to  right  or  left 
must  be  considered,  and  a  light  or  Iieavv  stroke  with  the 


I 

Hi 


If 


».  ,s 


46 


GAMES   UPON   DECK. 


cue  must  bo  given,  a(C()r(liu<^  us  the  vessel  pitelies  haeUwai'd 
or  forward. 

Four  usually  play  the  game,  and  the  implements  are  six 
black  and  six  white  disks  of  solid  wood,  about  six  inches  in 
diameter  and  an  inch  thick,  and  lour  crutch-like  cues  or 
sticks  with  which  to  ])ush  them  along  the  deck.  A  space  on 
the  deck  is  then  marked  off  with  chalk  and  numbered  as 
folhjws: 

The  ])layers  stand  some  iif- 
teen  feet  from  this  chalk-lined 
figure  on  the  deck,  place  their 
disks  on  a  line  and  try  to 
shove  them  into  the  squares 
marked  with  the  highest  num- 
bers. The  great  object  is  to 
shove  the  enemy  out,  and  land 
your  own  disk  within  the  cov- 
eted square.  At  the  end  of 
each  bout  the  whites  and 
l)lacks  reckon  up  their  gains, 
counting  only  the  disks  that 
are  wholly  within  the  squares 
and  not  touching  any  line,  and  the  side  that  obtains  sixty-one 
points  first  is  the  winner. 

1  do  not  know  who  the  cliam[)ion  shuffle-board  ])la3'er  of 
the  world  may  be,  but  he  deserves  to  have  his  name  in- 
scribed on  the  immortal  roll  of  base  ball  and  tennis  cham- 
pions, who,  I  suppose,  have  made  up  their  minds  that  their 
earthly  fame,  at  least,  is  secure. 

At  two  bells  (one  o'clock)  usually  comes  lunch,  and  at 
four  bells  (six  o'clock)  comes  dinner.  These  are  more  or  less 
imposing  formalities,  the  social  customs  on  some  steamers 
reciuiring  evening  dress  for  dinner.     After  dinner  come  the 


10 

ON 

8 

1 

G 

3 

5 

7 

4 

9 

2 

10 

OFF 

SIirKKLE-UOAUU. 


<    I 


I'I.EASANT   EVENIX(J   llOl'RS. 


47 


:\varc1 

re  six 
lies  in 
lies  or 
lice  on 
red  as 

nne  flf- 
Iv-lined 
;e  tlieii- 
try  to 
squares 
st  num- 
ct  is  to 
nd  land 
the  cov- 

end  of 
es    and 

I'  gains, 
iks  that 

squares 
ixty-one 

)layer  of 
lame  in- 
is  cham- 
lat  their 


!■( 


and  at 

or  less 


steamers 
•onie  the 


choice  hours  of  all  the  day.  The  glaring  trojncal  sun  has 
suidc  to  rest,  the  monotonous  voice  «>t"  the  ])o<)l  auctioneer  is 
stilled,  the  ])assengers  become  social  and  friendly.  All 
nature  is  aglow;  the  ))hos|)horescent  gleam  a])|)ears  whero- 
ever  the  shi})'s  prow  ])arts  the  waves,  the  evening  clouds 
assume  fantastic  shapes  on  the  western  horizon,  the  rosy  rays 
of  dej)arting  day  foretell  a  bright  to-morrow,  one  by  one  the 
southern  stars  come  out  and  twinkle  down  upon  a  thousand 
dancing  wavelets,  which,  like  so  many  tiny  mirrors,  catch  u}> 
their  broken  light  and  seiul  it  heavenward  again. 

Rick  and  forth,  back  and  forth,  over  the  unsteady 
deck,  ti-amj)  tlu^  passengers,  taking  their  evening  constitu- 
tionals, while  the  jiiano-girl  thrums  the  keys  inside  the 
social  room,  Avhich  is  too  warm  in  these  latitudes  to 
attract  many  visitors.  In  this  way  the  evening  jiasses 
until  bedtime  comes,  early  or  late,  wliile  the  good  ship 
])lunges  on  and  ever  on  into  the  darkness,  and  through 
the  inky  waves  with  their  silver  edges.  Thus  one  of  the 
])rosaic  twenty-live  days  between  San  Francisco  and  Sydney 
is  numbered  with  the  past. 

But  one  day  of  the  week  on  sea,  as  on  shore,  is  unlike 
every  other.  Hard  as  men  try  to  secularize  it,  desperate  as 
the  efforts  are  to  degrade  it,  on  sea  as  on  shore  it  is  still 
George  Herbert's : — 

"Sweet  daj-,  so  cool,  so  calm,  so  bright; 
Bridal  of  earth  and  sky." 

At  least,  such  is  it  to  the  Christian  heart.  Whether  the  sun 
shines,  or  the  clouds  lower,  or  the  winds  blow,  it  is  still  the 
Sabbath,  "bridal  of  earth  and  sky."  Even  the  inveterate 
gambler  feels  the  difference.  He  dares  not  outrage  the 
sentiment  of  the  day  by  rattling  his  poker  chips,  so  he  puffs 
his  cigar  and  sits  around  disconsolately  on  deck,  complain- 
ing that  Siindav  is  the  dreariest  day  of  all  the  week. 


4R 


"there  was  no  more  hea." 


i    I 


>\\ 


I 


A\< 


\i 


TIm'  ship  must  |)l()\v  on  Iut  way,  tlio  suilors  and  dock- 
liands  and  stowjirds  must  ^o  thi'<)U<j^li  their  (hiily  routine  of 
woi'k,  l)ut  oven  they  seoni  to  feel  a  ditToront  atniosi)h(^ro,  and 
sonio  of  thoni  join  th(^  worshipiu'^-  ))asson^('rs,  who,  at 
eleven  o'ehx-k,  assemhU;  in  the  social  iiail  for  divine  service. 
How  dillerent  from  our  Sunchiv  surrounding's  on  shore! 
This  unsteady  cal)in  for  our  sanctuary,  a  lla<i;-(h'aped  shelf  for 
the  ])ulpit,  a  few  devout  souls  of  <lilTei'ent  nationalities,  an<l 
creeds  almost  as  various  as  the  iiulividuals,  for  worshipc^rs. 
And  yet  there  ai*e  some  things  that  are  ever  the  same,  (iod 
is  here.     The  boundless  sea  and  inlinite  skv  only  seem  to 

ft  A.' 

hi'ing  Ilim  nearer.  Christ  is  liere,  and  "Jesus,  Lover  of  my 
tSoul,"  and  *' Kock  of  A«,a^s,"  never  sounded  more  sweeten 
laiul.  The  spirit  of  devotion  is  the  same  when  accentuated 
by  the  solemn  recjuiem  of  tlu;  sea  and  the  ceaseless  swash  of 
the  waves,  as  wIkmi  boi'ue  aloft  by  the  music  of  the  deep- 
toned  or<^an. 

AVbat  is  the  meaning  of  that  text  —  "There  was  no  more 
sea"^  Some  of  the  homesick,  seasick  passengers  would  like 
to  take  it  literally  and  believe  that  the  Ilevelator  meant  to 
state  a  fact  in  the  physical  geography  of  heaven.  But  with 
vision  clarified  by  many  days  on  the  ocean  wave,  can  we  not 
see  other  meanings  in  the  familiar  text?  The  sea  is  a 
symbol  of  separation.  In  the  fair  country  of  Avhich  John 
Avrote  there  will  bo  no  separation  of  friend  from  friend ;  for 
'•there  was  no  more  sea." 

The  ocean  is  ty])ical  of  isolation.  On  this  long  voyage 
we  have  not  seen  a  single  sail  for  weeks  on  the  far-off 
horizon.  "We  have  been  completely  shut  off  from  all  man- 
kind. The  redeemed  soul  in  heaven  can  never  be  set  apart 
by  himself.  lie  is  not  shut  u])  in  solitary  confinement. 
There  is  no  isolation  of  the  "  Saints  in  Light."  "  There  was 
no  more  sea." 


^^i 


ISOLATION  —  MYSTKKV  —  DANOKR. 


49 


The  sea  is  svinl)()lic  of  mvstcrv.  Strjii<'lit  on  into  tiio 
unknown  \V(^  have  been  plun^nn;^  over  sinco  leaving  San 
Fi'ancisc'o.  Only  ten  oi*  a  do/en  miles  into  tlu>  west  towai'd 
Avliieli  we  are  constantly  liastenin^^  can  wo  see  iVoni  the 
steamer's  <le{!k;  all  beyond  the  liori/(m  is  profoiindest 
mystery,  typical  of  mysteries  no  less  jti'ot'ound  in  science 
an<l  faith,  which  snrround  us  on  evei-y  hand.  In  the  land  of 
which  John  wrote  all  problems  will  be  solved,  all  mysteries 
will  he  cleared  uj).     "  There  was  no  more  sea." 

The  sea,  to  the  hindsman  at  least,  will  always  mean 
dan<!:ei'.  Until  ho  becomes  accustomed  to  their  baseless 
terrors  the  (ierce  gale,  the  sadden  huri'icane,  the  treacherous 
■wave,  all  seem  waiting  to  engulf  him.  To  the  ancients  in 
their  little  shallo|)s  these  dangers  nuist  have  been  intensified 
an<l  (iuadru})led.  J?nt  John  in  the  Kevelation  saw  a 
counti'y  where  the  inhabitants  were  never  afraid  —  "There 
was  no  more  sea." 

"Lord,  bring  us,  when  our  voyage  of  life  is  ended,  to 
that  blessed  hand  of  Fi'iendshij)  sui)ernal,  of  Knowledge  un- 
boundiul,  of  iSecurity  eternal,"  is  our  })rayer  on  this  Sabbath 
on  the  sea. 


f'-- 


:lii 


CHAPTER  II. 


4 


ACROSS  THE  PACIFIC  OCEAN  — WELCOME  AUSTRALIA. 

The  Joys  of  Terra  Finna  —  The  Phiyground  of  America  —  Bewildering 
Vegetation  —  IJrown-sklnned  Divers — Riiin  and  ^Missionaries  —  Ten  to 
One  —  The  Future  of  the  Hawaiian  —  Our  l)ei)arture  —  "Fire,  Fire" 

—  Between  the  Flames  and  the  Sea  —  An  Exciting  liace  for  Life  — 
Tlie  Navigators  Islands  —  The  First  Glimpse  —  The  Samcans  as  Nature 
Mfide  Them  —  Stalwart  Oarsmen  —  On  Shore  Again —Costumes  not 
from  Paris  —  Babies  in  Brown  Coats  —  The  Great  Event  of  the  Month 

—  A  Splendid  Race  —  The  Sabbath  Day  Holy  in  Samoa — A  Kingly 
Romance  —  A  Royal  Salary —  Tappa  and  Kava  —  An  Appetizing  Pro- 
cess—  Farewell  to  the  Oasis  —  An  Awful  Storm  —  A  Mournful  Spectre 

—  Our  Frolicsome  Companions  —  A  Week  without  a  Wednesday  —  An 
Exaggerated  English  Channel  —  New  Zealand's  Stern  and  Itugged 
Shores  —  Goodbye  Mariposa. 


I* 


I 


HAT  the  green  oases  of  the  des- 
ert with  their  sweet  fountains 
and  their  sentinel  pahn  trees  are 
to  the  traveler  across  the  sandy 
Sahara,  such  are  two  ports  at 
which  tlie  Oceanic  steamers  call, 
to  the  voyager  on  Pacific  waters. 
These  two  oases  are  Honolulu  in 
the  Sandwich  Islands,  and  Apia 
in  the  Samoan  group. 

After  only  seven  days  on  the  wil- 
derness of  waves  wo  can  truth- 
fully say  with  Tennyson : 

"We  have  had  enough  of  action  and  of  motion  ;  Ave 
Rolled  to  starboard,  roll'd  to  larboard,  when  the  surge  was  seething  free, 
Where  the  wallowing  monster  spouted  his  foam  fountains  in  the  sea." 

(50) 

%■■■>■ 


m 


AN   OASIS   IN   THE   DESERT   OF    WATERS. 


51 


% 


"4. 


and  now,  very  early  on  the  seventli  niornint^  after  the  "  God 
InMvith  you"  soiukUhI  in  our  ears  from  tlu;  Sun  Francisco 
pier,  we  see  a  faint  cloud-like  form  in  the  dim  horizon.  Is  it 
a  cloud  or  a  mountain  ?  Is  it  a  mist-baidc  or  solid  term 
fir//i)i  /  The  strengthen iu;^'  dayligiit  s(  .m  and  joyously 
resolves  our  doubts.  That  bhie  cloud-like  iiiountain  is  land; 
solid,  substantial,  stable  soil  ;  g-ood  gritty  ground,  which  we 
are  eag(?r  to  tread  at  the  tirst  possible  moment. 

We  do  not  have  long  to  wait,  for  soon  the  Mar'ipom 
steams  majestically  into  the  harbor,  dwarling  with  her  huge 
bulk  all  the  little  pigmy  boats  that  come  out  to  meet  her, 
and  veiy  (jnickly  she  is  made  fast  to  the  Honolulu  pier. 

What  a  new  workl  we  are  in  !  How  suddenly  our  green 
oasis  has  risen  out  of  tlu^  blue  desert  of  the  waters  !  It  can- 
not be  that  we  are  only  2,100  miles  from  San  Francisco. 
By  all  the  ordinaiy  analogies  of  travel  Ave  have  come,  at 
least,  twenty  millions  of  miles.  We  could  easily  imagine 
ourselves  on  a  different  planet. 

The  vegetation  is  strange,  the  people  are  unique,  every 
thing  is  dilferent  from  the  land  we  have  left.  The  drive, 
rush,  and  nervous  haste  of  an  American  city  has  given  Avay 
to  the  languor  and  luxurious  ease  of  a  tropical  pleasure 
ivsort. 

As  Switzerland  is  the  summer  playground  of  Europe,  the 
Saiulwich  Islands  some  day  will  become  the  summer  and 
wintcM'  playground  alike  of  America,  for,  with  its  delicious 
air  and  equable  temperature,  rarely  too  wai-m  and  never  too 
<'ool.  uU  seasons  are  its  own. 

What  magnificent  ])alm  trees  are  these  of  almost  count- 
less varieties!  Cocoanut  palms,  tall  and  stately,  with  the 
\('llow  nuts  hiding  far  up  uiuler  the  tufted  fronds ;  date  palms 
Avith  their  clusters  of  golden  fruit  ;  royal  palms  with  their 
weeping   plumes    and    tassels;    breadfruit    trees,   alligator 


J^ 


O'^  DIVING   FOR  A   NICKEL. 

pears,  tamarinds,  and  feathery  alg-eroba  trees  (on  Avliose 
"  husks ''  tlie  i)ro{ligal  of  the  parable  would  fain  liave  fed). 
Tlie  variety  is  bewildei-ing  to  a  traveler  from  temi)erate 
climes. 

The  j)eoi)lo,  too,  always  more  interesting  than  trees  or 
vegetables,  are  as  varied  as  the  trees  which  wave  their 
"fronded  palms"  above  them.  The  little  naked,  brown- 
skinned  divers  on   the   wharf    attract  our  attention  iirst. 


-,:,,^.  ■^.,  ^.  ^  --  -^^^ /^;^r^^2ws 


^"-■•>'^*'~- 


■■<r?--s^  " 


.>Cai^!:i-t; 


^-->-«J^^ 


YOUNG   SWIMMEUS   OK   HONOLULU. 


The}'  are  all  ready,  like  little  lads  of  fairer  skins,  to  pick  up 
an  honest  penny  Avherever  they  can  lind  it.  So  we  toss  a 
nickel  into  the  water  and  over  they  leap.  A  dozen  brown 
heads  disaj)pear  beneath  the  waves,  two  dozen  whitey-brown 
soles  appear  wriggling  vigorously  Avherc  a  second  before 
the  heads  appeared,  a  momentary  but  unseen  struggle  for 
the  coveted  nickel  takes  place  beneath  the  water,  and  then 


VICES  AND   VIRTUES   OF   CIVILIZATION. 


53 


liose 
fed). 
;vatc 

iS  oi* 

their 

•oAvn- 

lirst. 


pick  up 
e  toss  a 
l)ro\Yii 
-brown 
before 
o-o-le  foi* 
uul  then 


■'?• 


1 


the  little  brown  heads  bob  u})  serenely,  antl  the  brown  hand 
of  the  victorious  urchin  appears  above  the  brine,  holding  up 
the  ]>iece  of  money  to  show  that  he  is  the  winner,  before  he 
dcjiosits  it  in  that  ever  ready  bank  —  his  mouth.  Then, 
with  his  companions,  he  is  ready  for  another  dive  and 
another  struggle  for  the  coveted  piece  of  silver. 

Brt  we  must  not  linger  on  the  steamer  or  on  the  wharf, 
for  there  are  equally  novel  sights  on  shore.  There  is  China- 
town Avith  its  swarming  Celestials,  Portuguese  settlements 
with  their  swarthy,  gaily  bedecked  inhabitants,  beautiful 
American  and  English  homes  embowered  in  palms  and  trop- 
ical plants  of  all  kinds,  and  the  quarters  of  dusky  natives  in. 
scanty  clothing  and  with  gay  wreaths  around  their  hats, 
haj)py,  improvident,  good-natured,  and  lazy. 

Tiie  lover  of  the  picturesque  in  human  nature,  as  well  as 
in  nature  physical  and  geographical,  can  find  enough  to 
interest  him  for  many  a  day  in  Honolulu. 

Are  the  natives  destined  to  extinction?  Ah,  that  is  a. 
(juostion  that  only  thne  will  solve.  But,  if  they  are,  it  must 
l>e  remembered  that  it  will  be  due  to  civilization's  vices  and 
not  to  civilization's  virtues  or  Christ's  religion. 

When  it  is  borne  in  mind  that  even  before  Capt.  Cook's 
advent,  the  islands  and  the  islanders  had  passed  the  climax  of 
their  glory  as  a  race;  that  they  were  engaged  in  destructive 
Will's  with  each  other  which  were  sometimes  wars  of  extermi- 
nation ;  when  we  remember  that  probably  ten  ship  loads  of 
luni  have  been  sent  out  from  Christian  England  and  America 
t'oi"  every  missionaiy  they  have  dispatched;  that  it  has  taken 
tlio  Latin  races  eighteen  centuries,  and  the  Saxon  races 
ni'iu'ly  as  long,  to  reach  their  present  unstable  Christian 
'iluiUbriuni,  and  tlieir  still  im])erfect  civilization;  we  are 
siii'pi'ised.  not  that  tlie  islanders  ai'e  so  imperfect  and  so 
l>i'oiie  to  fetisiiism  and  idolatrv,  but  that  in  a  few  vears 


1 


54 


FROM  HONOLULU  TO  APIA. 


I    > 


h\ 


they  have  Jicquirod  so  much  of  the  Spirit  of  Ilim  who  \v;is 
pure  and  harmless  and  undeliled,  and  who  went  about  doiuy- 
good.  The  missionary  influence  is  still  strong-  in  this  beauti- 
ful land,  and  it  shows  no  signs  of  waning. 

IVLiny  of  the  most  beautiful  residences  are  oAvned  by 
nussionaries'  sons,  Avho  are  h)yal  to  the  faith  of  their  fatiiers, 
and  nnich  of  the  business  of  the  islands  is  in  the  hands  of 
these  Christian  men.  They  are  influential  in  the  halls  of 
legislation  and  shape  the  aifairs  of  government.  So  long  as 
such  men  are  to  the  fore  there  is  confident  hope  for  this 
lovely  oasis  of  the  Pacific  Desert. 

But  the  Ifarijwsa's  warning  whistle  sounds;  we  must 
liasten  to  the  wharf.  As  we  stepped  aboard,  our  friends, 
according  to  the  beautiful  Hawaiian  custom,  covei'ed  us  with 
garlands  of  jasmine  and  sweet-scented  leaves,  and  loaded  us 
with  fi'uits  and  beautiful  flowers.  The  royal  Hawaiian  l)and 
of  forty  ])ieces  played  "God  Save  the  Queen"  and  "The 
Star  S[)angled  Banner,"  and  we  were  off  once  more  across 
the  watery  waste,  bound  foi*  another  paradise  of  the  Pacific 
—  Samoa. 

At  about  equal  distances  are  these  two  oases  situated 
between  San  Francisco  and  Svdnev, —  Honolulu  twentv-one 
hundred  miles  from  America,  A])ia  twenty-one  hundred 
miles,  or  seven  days,  further.  But,  though  we  are  sailing 
over  summer  seas  and  there  is  little  to  distui'b  the  dreamy 
monotony  of  this  particular  journey,  let  not  the  reader  think 
that  the  voyages  are  always  uneventful. 

Such  was  not  the  case  on  that  voyage  of  the  Mariposa, 
when  very  early  in  the  morning,  so  early  in  fact  that  only 
the  sailors  of  the  morning  watch  heard  it,  the  dreadful  ci'y 
of  "Fire  —  lire"  resounded  throughout  the  ship,  and,  on 
opening  the  hatchway,  a  (  ense  volume  of  black  smoke 
])oured  uj),  stifling  all  who  came  too  near.     The  hose  Avas 


I 


AN   AWFUL   SECRET.  56 

turned  on,  hut  the  hn<^e  streain  of  wtiter  luid  no  effect  on 
tlie  l)uriiing-  flax  which  composed  the  ciirgo.  Then  tlie 
hatches  were  l>attened  down,  a  small  hole  bored  through 
the  ])artition,  and  a  steam  ])\\)e  turned  in  ui)ori  the  tire,  but 
that  was  eiiually  useless.  Several  men  who  went  below  to 
hoist  u|)  the  burning  bales  of  flax  were  asphyxiated,  and 
<vith  much  exertion  were  brought  back  to  life  again.  At 
hMigth  the  captain,  seeing  that  nothing  could  prevail, 
g  as  st()pj)e(l   up  evei'V   p(jssible   crevice  leading  to  the   cargo, 

this  turned    his  vessel  about,  and   steamed   for   Auckland,    the 

nearest  })ort,  more  than  thi-ee  hundred  miles  distant. 

What  can  be  more  awful  than  a  shi])  on  Are  in  mid- 
ocean  i  Between  the  two  devouring  elements,  who  can  hope 
to  escape  i  The  unpitying  fire  within,  the  remorseless  sea 
\vithout!  For  those  who  knew  it,  what  jhi  awful  secret 
must  the  knowledge  of  that  smouldering  cargo  have  been? 
JUit  few  com])ai'atively  knew  of  the  disaster.  With  rare 
pi'esence  of  mind  Capt.  Hayward  and  his  officers  kept  the 
matter  to  themselves.  The  good  ship  fairly  seemed  to  leap 
tiirough  the  water.  Never  did  she  do  better  credit  to  her 
uated  -M       builders.     She  seemed  to  realize  that  she  was  racing  for  life, 

tv-one  :^       The  passengers  —  most  of  them  —  did  not  notice  that  she 

undred  J       had   turned  about  and  Avas  headed   west  instead  of  east, 

sailing  m      Tlie  captain  suggested  a  concert  in  the  evening  to  divert 

reamy  '"m      attention,  and  it  ^vas  carried  out  in   the  highest  style  of 

think  j^     nautical  art.     The  awful  secret  was   blazing  in  the  hold, 

and  the  tell-tale  smoke  sometimes  esca])ed  and  wreathed 
r'qwsa,  ^^H  itself  above  the  deck.  And  still  the  Jlarljxmi  plowed  on 
it  only  ^^  "ii'l  on  and  on,  until  at  last  the  welcome  headlands  of 
ful  cry  JS  Auckland  harbor  loomed  up  and  the  Avharf  was  safely 
ind,  on  ^^m     I'caclicd :  the  treacherous  cargo  was   discharged,  and  two 

smoke  JB    Inmdred   lives   that   hung   on   a    thread    so    slender    were 

ose  was  -MM    saved. 


5G 


PALMS  AND  CORAL  REEFS. 


It  was  soon  after  noon  on  a  gray  and  squally  day  that 
we  first  caufflit  siifht  of  the  hills  that  rise  behind  the  town 
of  Apia,  and,  after  that,  with  the  eagerness  of  landsmen 
long  at  sea,  Ave  could  not  keep  our  eyes  off  the  enchanting 
spectacle.  Little  by  little,  the  encircling  bay  of  Apia  with  its 
fringe  of  majestic  i)alms,  its  outer  coral  reef  on  which  the 
surf  was  dashing  high,  and  its  row  of  native  huts  interspersed 
with  a  few  European  cottages,  came  into  view,  and  we  feasted 
our  eyes  to  our  hearts'  content  on  this  lovely  shore.  Imme- 
diately behind  the  village  rises  a  conical  hill,  some  six 
or  eight  hundred  feet  high,  and  in  front  the  shore  is  lap})ed 
by  the  bright  azure-tinted  water,  whose  depths  sparkle  with 
coral  and  sea  anemones  and  bright-colored  fish. 

But  we  are  still  more  interested  in  the  Samoans  than  in 
Samoa  ;  in  men  and  women  and  boys  and  girls,  than  in  hills 
and  palm  trees  and  coral  reefs  and  fishes.  And  here  they 
come  :  Samoans  of  both  sexes  and  of  all  ages,  for  the  arrival 
of  the  monthly  mail  steamer  is  a  great  event  in  Apia.  Some 
of  them  are  in  neatly  painted  Avhite  rowboats,  but  most  of 
them  put  off  to  meet  us  in  their  native  dug-outs,  long,  shal- 
low, and  exceedingly  narrow  boats  that  Avould  tip  over  in  a 
twinkling,  even  though  the  oarsman's  hair  might  be  parted 
in  the  middle,  were  it  not  for  the  inevitable  outrider  with 
Avhich  they  are  all  rigged.  This  outrider  consists  of  a  long 
piece  of  light  cork-like  wood,  nearly  the  length  of  the  canoe, 
attached  to  it  with  braces  at  each  end.  In  these  light,  frail 
canoes  the  natives  ride  in  the  greatest  security  and  go 
through  the  heaviest  surf.  "What  a  picturesque  sight  it  is  I 
There  is  a  young  girl  Avith  a  bright  shawl  about  her  Avaist 
sitting  as  composedly  and  as  self-poised  as  a  queen  in  her 
little  canoe,  Avliile  around  her  feet  is  a  Avealth  of  cocoanuts, 
mangoes,  ])ineapples,  and  bananas,  which  she  offers  for  sale 
in  a  dignified  Avay ;  a  Avliole  bunch  of  the  latter  "  for  tAvo 


i?': 


SAMOAN  SURF  BOATS  AND  BOATMEN. 


57 


bits  "  (twenty-five  cents).  There  is  another  hirge  boat  ap- 
proaching bearing  some  official  from  the  ishind,  and  rowed 
by  lialf  a  dozen  stalwart,  bronze-colored  natives,  whose  bare 
skins,  rubbed  down  with  abundant  cocoanut  oil,  glisten  in 
the  sunlight.  Their  muscles  stand  out  like  whipcord  as 
they  vow  in  perfect  time  and  splendid  form,  the  despair  of 
any  Yale  or  Harvard  crew  that  might  witness  the  sight. 
There  is  another  native  boat  loaded  with  fresh  fish,  neatly 
bundled  u})  in  huge  green  leaves,  while  sparkling  shells  and 
coral  branches  make  np  the  rest  of  her  little  cargo.  And  here 
is  a  native  Avho  somehow  lias  scrambled  aboard  the  Mar'qwsa 
in  s])ito  of  the  efforts  of  the  crew  to  keep  him  off,  and  he 
jabbers  and  gesticulates  at  us  in  true  hackman  style.  We 
could  not  understand  a  word  he  said,  but  the  unspoken 
language  of  a  cabman  is  the  same  the  world  over,  so  we 
accepted  his  offer,  which  Ave  understood  was  to  take  us 
ashore  for  "two  bits,"  the  universal  standard  of  value  in 
these  regions.  We  crawled  down  the  ship's  side  by  the 
rope  ladder,  aided  by  two  strong  pair  of  arms,  and  were 
soon  landed  at  the  little  pier. 

There  a  strange  and  novel  sight,  indeed,  greeted  our 
evos.  The  Avharf  and  the  streets  were  swarming  Avith 
natives,  young  and  old,  in  all  kinds  of  costumes  and  in  no 
costumes  at  all,  who  had  come  down  to  the  water's  edge  to 
see  the  great  event  of  the  month,  the  arrival  of  the  mail 
steamer  from  America.  If  ever  there  Avas  a  picturesque 
throng  of  people  this  Avas  one.  The  Mother  llubl)ard  dress 
seemed  to  be  the  most  popular  for  the  Avomen,  and  for  some  ^ 
of  the  men,  too,  for  that  matter,  but  as  foAV  could  indulge  in 
such  vanities  as  an  everyday  affair  there  Avere  all  kinds  of 
vai'iations  from  the  standard  mode. 

One  man  strutted  proudly  by  Avith  as  much  dignity  as  a 
lieau  Brummel  or  a  Lord  Chesterfield  could  assume,  Avith  a 


68 


STALWAUT   AND   GENTLE   CHKISTIAN   PEOPLE. 


pioce  of  the  native  ta])pa  thrown  no<,^li^ently  across  liis 
shoulders;  anotlier  stalked  past  with  a  l)riyht  red  tablecloth 
about  his  loins;  a  group  of  young  girls  evidently  just  out 
from  the  mission  school,  went  ti'ij)piiig  j)ast  arrayed  in  a 
])iece  of  white  cloth,  with  a  beautiful  garland  of  llowers 
across  their  shoulders,  while  babies  were  invariably  arrayed 
solely  in  the  beautiful  brown  coat  which  nature  first  gave 
them. 

The  Samoans  are  a  s[)lendi(l  race,  physically  considered ; 
the  most  stalwart,  as  well  as  the  most  gentle  of  all  the 
South  Sea  Islanders.  I  did  not  see  a  sinf-le  u<>lv  or  ma- 
lignant  face  during  my  stay  at  A])ia.  Ilc^mely  features 
there  are  as  in  every  crowd,  but  few  malevolent,  vicious, 
sinister  faces;  smiling  looks,  unsus])ici(nis  manners,  intelli- 
gent and  even  courtly  ])oliteness  I  saw  everywhere. 

After  seeing  these  jneii  and  women  I  could  easily  l)elieve 
what  had  been  told  me — ^that  all  the  natives  were  Chris- 
tians. About  five  thousand  of  them  are  Catholic,  five 
thousand  moi'c  are  Wesle3'ans,  and  the  rest  of  the  forty 
thousand  inhabitants  are  under  the  care  of  the  London  Mis- 
sionary Society,  Avhich,  thi'ough  its  excellent  missionaries, 
most  admirably  looks  after  their  spiritual  interests.  "Oh, 
but  they  are  only  nominal  Christians,"  I  can  hear  my  skej)- 
tical  reader  exclaim.  Well,  dear  reader,  if  Ave  may  judge 
them  by  their  fruits  their  Christianity  is  not  so  "nominal" 
as  that  of  most  of  the  peopki  who  live  in  New  York  and 
Boston,  Chicago  and  San  Francisco.  If  our  steamer  had  en- 
tered the  harbor  of  A])ia  on  a  Sunday  not  a  single  canoe  or 
gaily  decked  native  would  have  come  out  to  welcome  lis. 
Not  a  cocoanut  or  a  bunch  of  bananas  would  have  been 
offered  for  sale.  All  the  canoes  would  have  been  hauled  up 
on  the  beach,  liigh  and  dry,  and  at  church  time  every  man, 
woman,  and  child  in  the  place,  barring  the  sick,  would  have 


T 


A  COMPARISON   IN  FAVOR  OF  THE  SAMOANS. 


59 


his 
•loth 
■j  out 
in  iv 
)\vers 
I'tivcd 


gave 


leved; 
jl  the 
)!•  ina- 
nit  lives 
acious, 
intelli- 

,  believe 
.  Chvis- 
ic,   live 
He  forty 
on  Mis- 
oniu'ies, 
-  Oh, 
IV  skep- 
y  judge 
oniinal" 
ovk  and 
had  en- 
canoe  or 
[come  us. 
ive  been 
uiuled  up 
ery  man. 
ukl  have 


l)een  seen  wending  their  way  to  church.  Not  sucii  a  nom- 
inal religion  is  that  which  thus  remembers  the  Sabbath  day 
to  keep  it  holy. 

If  we  should  enter  anv  one  of  these  native  huts  at  break- 
fast  time  we  should  see  all  tlie  heads  reverently  ho  wed 
while  the  Divine  Blessing  was  asked,  and  afterwards  all  the 
family  would  come  together  for  morning  prayers.  If  we 
should  live  among  them  we  should  find  them  honest,  gentle, 
peaceable,  kind-hearted,  affectionate  neighbors.  Not  merely 
nominal  Christian  graces  are  these. 

To  be  sure  thev  have  their  faults.     Thev  are  lazv  and 
improvident.     The  family  tie  is  not  observed  as  it  should  be, 
and  doubtless  they  have  minor  blemishes.     Hut  tell  me,  dear 
Mrs.  Beacon  Street  or  jVlr.  Fifth  Avenue,  are  you  ready  to 
cast  the  lirst  stone?     The  white   lif^ht  of  Chi-istianitv  has 
been  beating  upon  your  head  and  tlie  heads  of  your  ances- 
tors for  eighteen  hundred  years.     It  is  but  little  more  than 
sixty  years  since   the    Sun   of  Kighteousness    arose  upon 
Samoa.     You,  all  3'our  lives,  have  been  inhaling  the  air  of 
C'hristlike  devotion,  which  once  made  the  martyrs  strong  to 
do  and  dare  for   God.     These  peo})le,  until  within  sixty 
years,  have  lived  in  the  fetkl  atmosphere  of  heathenism. 
For  many  generations  your  forefathers  have  been  growing 
sti'ong  while  feeding  on  the  Bread  of  Life.     Only  one  gener- 
ation has  passed  away  since  the  symbolic  bread  was  broken 
and  the  emblematic  wine  was  first  poured  in  Samoa.     Who 
will  doubt  the  power  of  Christianity,  or  deride  the  value  of 
missionary  labor  after  studying  the  history  of  Samoa?     And 
yet  there  are  self-sufficient,  purblind  people  Avho,  with  an  air 
of  knowing  all  about  it,  Avill  tell  you  that  the  missionaries 
liiive  done  more  harm  than  good,  that  they  are  responsible 
for  the  gradual   extinction  of  the  natives,  and   that  when 
converted,  the  natives  are  not  worth  the  labor  expended. 


I  ' 


CO 


ROYAL   VICISSITUDES. 


One  finds  many  men  and  women  who  talk  in  this  way 
on  the  very  steaniei's  which  visit  those  islands,  and  amon^ 
those  wiio  actuallv  see  tliese  transfoi'minf"-  wonders  of  Cliris- 
tianity.  I  have  always  noticed,  however,  that  the  men  Avho 
talk  thus  spend  most  of  their  time  in  the  smokin<^-room 
playinj^  ])oker  or  betting  on  the  ship's  run,  while  the  women 
who  express  such  opinions  seem  to  have  no  souls  above  the 
fancy  work  or  the  ])ack  of  cards  they  hold  ifi  their  hands. 
I,  for  one,  should  be  jjorfectly  willing  to  set  otf  Sanioan 
moralitv  aijainst  theirs. 

The  Mariposa  only  remained  in  A])ia  long  enough  to 
exchange  mails  and  dischai'ge  a  little  freight,  s(j  wo  luul  but 
one  or  two  brief,  delightful  hours  on  shore.  P)Ut  these  were 
enough  to  lill  us  with  a  longing  to  spend  as  many  Aveeks. 
However,  we  had  time  to  see  the  long  straggling  street ;  the 
new  native  church,  a  beautiful  and  commodious  stone  struct- 
nre;  the  consulates  and  land  commissioners'  offices  of 
the  three  powers,  America,  I^ngland,  and  Germany,  that 
really  govern  Samoa;  the  beautiful  grounds  and  pleasant 
buildings  of  the  London  ]\[issionary  Society,  and  the  royal 
Imt  of  King  IMalietoa  sui'i-ounded  by  palm  trees  and  luxuri- 
ant tropical  ])lants  of  all  kinds.  This  good  King,  like  some 
sovereigns  of  more  extensive  domains,  has  had  his  ups  and 
downs.  Nearly  twenty  years  ago  he  was  elected  King,  and 
for  about  ten  years  he  reigned  in  tranquillity,  protected  by 
treaties  with  Germany,  England,  and  the  United  States. 
Tlien,  however,  owing  to  the  interference  of  the  Germans, 
who  had  cast  a  covetous  eye  on  Samoa,  which  Uncle  Sam 
was  none  too  quick  to  see  and  to  resent,  feuds  arose,  a  rival 
claimant  tried  to  seize  the  sceptre,  and  King  Malietoa  was 
sent  as  an  exile  to  a  distant  island  in  the  western  Pacific. 
But  Germany's  avaricious  plans  were  frustrated,  the  spuri- 
ous claimant  whom  she  had  supported  was  defeated,  and 


CLOTH    PROM   MULBERRY   BARK. 


61 


iMalietoa  was  bi'(>u<,^lit  back  and  ro-ostablislied  on  liis  tlirone, 
which  was  then  protected  by  the  presence  of  a  man-of-war 
from  the  United  States  Navy.  lie  is  a  good  and  thoughtful 
(Christian  man,  who  sets  a  kingly  example  to  all  his  peo[»le. 
I  am  glad  to  hear  that  his  siilary  has  just  been  raised  and 
that  he  now  receives  the  royal  sum  of  one  hundred  tlollars  a 
inontli. 

Wiiile  we  \vere  on  shore  a  slight  shower  arose  —  a  very 
common  occurrence  in  Apia  —  and  as  Ave  wei-e  without 
umbrellas  or  mackintoshes  we  sougiit  shelter  in  a  friendly 
native  hut,  which  consists  simply  of  a  thatched  I'oof  oj)en  on 
every  side  to  the  winds  of  heaven.  We  were  received  with 
the  utmost  politeness,  and  though  there  were  no  chairs  or 
lounges,  and  we  were  obliged  either  to  stand  or  to  sit  on  the 
floor,  we  felt  none  the  less  Avelcome.  While  thus  taking- 
shelter  we  bought  from  one  of  the  natives  a  large  square  of 
taj)pa,  the  native  cloth,  which  is  ingeniously  made  of  the 
innoi*  l)ark  of  a  mulberry  tree.  This  bark  is  first  laitl  in  the 
bed  of  a  running  stream  to  soak.  After  a  sufficient  time  the 
pieces  of  bark  are  laid,  layer  1)V  layer,  upon  a  log,  and 
then  beaten  out  to  the  Avidtli  required  by  heavy  wooden 
mallets.  When  the  strips  have  been  beaten  for  some  time 
they  become  blended  into  one  mass,  which,  by  the  addition 
<jf  fresh  bark,  can  be  increased  in  length  and  width  as 
required. 

Ill  the  beautiful  museum  at  Honolulu  the  Curator  has 
arranged  squares  of  this  tappa,  which  are  dyed  in  all  imagin- 
able beautiful  colors,  in  a  Avindow  through  Avhich  the 
Avestern  light  shines.  At  a  little  distance  one  can  hardly 
believe  that  it  is  not  delicate  stained  glass. 

Another  peculiar  product  of  Samoa  is  kava,  the  South 
Pacific  native  drink.  Miss  Emma  A.  Adams  in  her  pleasant 
little  book  about  Fiji  and  Samoa  tells  hoAV  it  is  made:  — 


I 


!|l  J 


I ! 


I  ; 


62 


**WEAK  TEA   AND   MFCDICATED  MOAPHl'DH." 


''  Kiivii  is  [)r('[)ai'('(l  tVoiii  the  root  of  a  species  of  pepper 
tree,  lomid  on  most  of  tlieso  groups.  The  shi-iil)  attains  a 
luM«^ht  of  live  or  six  feet,  and  has  a  [)retty  green  foliage, 
tinged  with  pni'j)Ie.  TIh;  I'oot,  having  been  thoi'onghly 
washed,  is  cut  in  small  sliees,  which  are  distrihuted  to  young- 
persons  with  perfect  teeth  to  be  masticated,  i)y  which  pro- 
cess they  are  reduced  to  a  complete  |)nlp.     Mouthful  after 


.  '■  '"'^v'jj''!^'  ''^;  ,)i;"iii(((jij)j'P>\>im''#'Mii;,il;,o/^, ; 


HAMOAN    (ilKl.S    MAKINd    KAVA. 


mouthful  of  these  little  pulpy  masses  is  thrown  into  a  large 
bowl,  ceremoniously  [)lacod  in  front  of  the  one  who  is  to 
serve  the  beverage,  and  water  is  tiien  poured  upon  thein. 
Tlie  mass  is  now  worked  witii  the  hand  until  all  the  strength 
and  vii'tue  of  the  iibre  is  expressed,  when  it  is  deftly  strained 
awav  with  a  bunch  of  lono-  fibre  fi-om  the  inner  bark  of  the 
hibiscus,  and  the  licpiid  is  now  i-eady  for  drinking.  Its 
appearance  is  like  that  of  weak  tea,  its  taste  like  that  of 
medicated  soapsuds."     AVill  you  have  a  cu]),  my  reader? 


THK   Fl'UV    OK   A   TROPICAL   STOUM. 


68 


liut  our  brief  respite  from  tlio  jlesert  of  tlie  sea  is  nearly 
ov(?r.  Our  lioui-  in  the  Oasis  is  spent  and  the  deep-toned 
whistU'of  the  Marljiom  calls  us  on  hoard  amain. 

Reluctantly  we  tear  ourselves  away  from  our  brief 
glimpse  of  paradise,  but  g-o  we  must.  On  the  way  back  to 
the  steamer  we  ])ass  the  ^aunt  and  mournful  spectre  of  the 
Adlei',  one  of  the  unfortunate  Ciernum  men-of-war,  wiiich,  in 
the  awful  gale  of  ^farch  !.'»,  1SS!>,  was  lifted  bodily  from  the 
water  and  with  great  fury  cast  up(m  tiie  toj)  of  tin;  reef  and 


■v^'L 


AM-   THAT    UKMAIN8   OK   TlIK    "  AI)M:H." 

turned  over  on  her  side.  There  she  still  lies,  her  poor  ribs 
exposed  and  l)are,  with  the  daylight  shining  through  them 
everywhere,  an  awful  spectacle  of  the  fury  of  a  tropical 
storm  in  this  quiet  bay.  Near  by,  but  under  the  waves,  lies 
her  companion  gunboat,  the  J'Jur,  and  the  two  United  States 
steamers,  Vandalia  and  Trenton,  which  were  wrecked  and 
uttei'ly  destroyed  in  tlie  same  fearful  y:ale  in  which  there 
jierished  four  American  officers  and  forty-seven  men,  and 
nine  German  officers  and  eighty-seven  men.  Nine  hundred 
men  were  saved  from  the  wrecked  shipping  in  the  harbor, 
who  were  provided   for   with  the   utmost   generosity  and 


't; 


64 


UOUNDLKSS   SKIKS   AND    KNDLliSS   HKAS. 


'H'Im: 


I  ■! 


liuiiumity  Ity  tlic^  iiiitivc;  Siuiiojins  nud  IIk^  I'oi'ci^n  j'csidcJits. 
As  llic  Mni'ipoxd  stejiiMS  out  of  I  lie  (|iii('t  (M)i*iil  itcI'  with  llio 
frail  niitiv(^  hojits  <liui(;in<^  all  ahoiil  her,  it  is  li;ii(l  lo  i-calizc! 
that  this  pcaccriil  l»;iy  Wiis  cvci'  the  scene  ol'  such  <lev;islat i?i<^ 
fiirv. 

Now  we  iiiity  coM^l'Mtiiliile  ourselves  lliiit  we  iii'e  moro 
thitii  li;iir  w;iy  to  Sydney,  more  than  live  thousand  miles 
behind  us,  less  than  three  thousand  miles  hefoi-e  us.  IJoinid- 
less  skies  ahove  us,  endless  seas  around  us;  that,  is  the; 
liistoi'v  of  th(i  next,  six  <lays.  ISoundless  skies  decked  hy 
many  a,  cloud  and  some!  imes  ei'ay  and  an^ry  with  the  Stoi'm 
Kin^^'s  wi-alh;  endless  seas  llecked  hy  never  a  sail  and  dark 
<'ned  hy  no  trailing'  steamei's' smoke,  toi',  sa\ine'  the  Ai'ctic 
and   Antarctic;  seas,  we  ar<i  on  the  loneliest-  ocean  of  all. 

Oidy  an  o(!casional  school  of  eainholinir  dolphins,  "ski]) 
jacks"  the  sailors  ajipropriately  call  them,  eidiven  the  secant;. 
In  tlx'  jx-rfect  abandon  of  <^'ood  spirits  tlu^y  chas(!  each  other 
through  the  watei',  tund)l(^  over  each  other,  divt;  undei'  (!ach 
other,  and  sometimes  hear  down  u|ion  the  ship,  lea|>in;^  hieh 
in  the  air  and  tui'iiiii".;'  their  yellow  bellies  to  tin;  sun  for  the 
iiH!i'(!  fun  of  the  thine',  ;is  bo\s  dive  oil'  a  loiJ'  onc^  alter  the 
other  to  W(»rk  oil'  theii*  animal  spirits.  Then  al'tei'  (;hasiiie- 
the  slii|)  for  a  do/en  miles  or  mor(\  they  disappear  as 
suddenly  as  tlu^y  cann'  and  leave  us  to  the  sole  companion- 
ship of  the  mild-eyed,  curious  albatross,  which  circles 
around  and  around  and  ai'ound  ami  sonu^timc'S  falls  behind 
but  nevei'  allows  tlu;  steamer  to  ii'ct  out,  of  siu'hl.  The  last 
thin<^  at  ni<^'ht  oui*  albatrosses  ai'e  thei'e,  sometinu's  follow- 
ing ii,  our  wake,  sometimes  circline'  ovei'  our  very  heads. 
The  lii'st  thin<^  in  \\\k\  mornine-,  jiowovei"  eai'ly  w<'  rise,  ther*; 
th(3y  Jin;  aeain,  tlui  most  ei'ji('(>fid  bii'ds  that  lly,  just  liftine' 
thoir  wiiif^s  and  steej'in*^-  their  course;  and  allowin<^  tlio  wind, 
apparently,  to  do  all  the  work  of  Hying'  for  them. 


i  -I 


SIX    DAYS    MARK  ONK   WKKK. 


65 


Tims  convoVMHl  wo  sidled  on  oxer  llit^  \vjit(Ty  wasto. 
The  necessities  of  l()n<;it ti<lin:il  i'e('i<(»nin;^-  <^jiv«!  ns  om;  week 
without  a  WiMliUisday.  We  went  to  l>e(l  one  Tuewlay  ni<,'lit 
and  wal<e<l  np  «»n  Tlinrsday  morning-  and  yet  we  liad  only 
slept  our  re^idation  eij^lil  lioni's.  My  readei's,  who  will 
iviriend)ei'  that  we  pass  the  ISO'  ineridian  of  lon^itmhi 
iu'lween  Samoa,  and   AiicUiand,  will  nndei'stand   the  ceasoti 


A    MAOIll    llorSK. 

lot'  this  week'  with  otdy  six  days  in  it.  I'.nt  this  week  was 
(|iiil('  ion^'  eii()ii;^'li.  We  are  very  I'eady  to  spare  one  day  out 
of  it,  and  very  wiliin;^'  to  welcome  the  l»hiir  and  I'u^^i^^cid 
shores  of  New  Zealand  on  the  sixth  day  onl  from  Samoa. 

Tliis  wondei'TuI  island,  whose  shores  look'  not  mdike  tlu'; 
rucklioiiiid  const  of  our  own  New  I'!n<i'land,  deserves  lo  hav<i 
;i  whole  hook  devoted  to  it.  lis  Wonderful  iialiu'al  r(^- 
siiiu'ccs.  its  cm'ious  vej^ctahle  and  animal  products,  its  war- 
like race  of  natives,  the  lierce  Maoi'is,  and  its  intrepid  atid 
ciiti'iprisiiin' colonists,  who  have  alreadv  made  New   Zealand 


66 


IX   THE   STREETS   OF   AUCKLAND. 


' 


one  of  tlife  bri<,ditest  jewels  in  Her  Majesty's  crown,  tempt 
the  chronicler's  })en  to  linger  long.  But  we  only  had  time 
to  see  the  line,  solidly  built  streets  of  Auckland,  with  its  fine 
business  l>l(5cks,  its  handsome  government  buildings,  and  its 
great  tabernacle  erected  by  llev.  Thomas  S})urgeon,  a  son  of 


*  •/ '.  SS'i:  a**  - 


MAORI   IDOLS. 


the  famous  preacher ;  to  receive  a  most  hearty  welcome 
from  Auckland's  ministers,  and  lay  Christian  workers,  to 
attend  a  thoroughly  enthusiastic  Christian  Endeavor  meet- 
ing in  the  Ponsonby  IJaptist  Church,  and  then  we  were  off 
again ;  always  off,  for  the  restless  Maripom  will  never 
be  satisfied  until  she  reaches  her  dock  at  Sydney. 

Then  came  five  days  more  of  ocean  traveling  across  the 


« 


SAFE  ^\  ITHIN   THE  HARBOR  OF   SYDNEY, 


07 


Avide  and  tiirlndent  cliamiel  that  stretches  between  Xew 
Zeahmd  and  Australia.  This  particular  strip  of  water  has 
a  very  had  re])utation.  It  is  considered  a  kind  of  exagger- 
ated English  Channel,  and  my  readei's  who  have  experienced 
the  bitterness  of  that  piece  of  salt  water  between  Xewhaven 
and  Diepj^e,  or  Dover  and  Calais,  will  understand  all  the 
miseries  which  such  a  voyage  inn)lies.  Think  of  spending 
five  days  tossing  about  like  an  intoxicated  cork  on  the 
English  Channel,  and  you  will  know  something  of  Avhat  the 
vovage  between  Auckland  and  Svdnev  often  is.  But,  fortu- 
iiately,  on  this  voyage  Neptune  did  not  seriously  test  our 
courage  or  our  seanuxnshi]).  "We  had  bright  skies  and  com- 
paratively smooth  seas,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  fifth  day 
from  iVuckland  and  the  twentv-fifth  from  San  Francisco, 
"land  ahead"  was  the  welcome  cry;  Svdnev  Heads  loomed 
u])  in  the  distance ;  we  found  our  way  through  the  narrow 
channel  which  Capt.  C\)ok  so  narrowly  missed  a  hundred 
years  ago,  and,  after  three  and  one-half  weeks  of  rolling  and 
tossing  and  pitching  and  heaving  on  the  vast  Pacific,  found 
ourselves  safe  within  the  s])lcndid  land-locked  har])or  of 
Sydney,  to  which  our  good  ])ilot  had  steered  over  7,0U0  miles 
of  trackless  lonely  waves. 

Goodbye,  JLirijuMt.     "Welcome,  Australia. 


CII AFTER  III. 

A  NEW   CONTINENT  — FIRST   IMPRESSIONS  OF   AUSTRxVLIA. 

A  New  Continent — A  Magiiiticent  Harbor — Torres'  Mistake  —  The 
Flight  of  the  Dove — "The  Endeavor"  —  An  Important  Astronomi- 
cal Discovery  —  A  Vast  Noah's  Ark  —  Great  Grandfather  Animals  — 
The  Bushman  and  His  Fate — What  the  Savage  could  not  do  —  Un- 
certain Rain  and  Certain  Drought  —  Australian  Oddities  —  Confused 
Trees  —  Topsy-Turvyness  — Preconceived  Notions  —  The  Englishman 
the  World  Over  —  The  Evolution  of  the  Yankee  Drawl  —  Colonial 
Days  —  "  The  Great  American  Desert  "  —  Mother  and  Daughter —  How 
the  Old  Lady  Treats  Her  Child  —  English  or  American  —  Architectural 
DilTerences  —  Big  Names —  "  Elevator"  or  "  Lift  "  —  "  Barber's  Shop  " 
"Tonsorial  Palace"  —  American  Inventions  iu  Australia  —  The  Home 
of  Anarchy  and  Unrest  —  Country  Life  versus  City  Life  —  The  "  Bluey" 
and  the  "  Billy  "  —  The  "  Larrikin  "  —  A  "New  Chum "  —  Modesty  Be- 
coming a  Literary  New  Chum. 

TRAVELER'S  first  impressions 
of  a  new  land,  while  not  always 
the  most  accurate,  are  usually 
the  most  vivid  and  interesting. 
How  many  pulses  have  thrilled 
with  curiosity  and  pleasure  as 
they  have  seen  the  rough  coast 
of  old  Ireland  for  the  first  time 
Avlien  a])proaching  the  Old  AVorld 
from  the  New,  for  there  in  the 
shadowy  distance,  somewhere  be- 
hind the  frowning  cliffs  of  Erin, 
lies  all  the  mystery  of  antiquity,  all  the  historic  asscK'iations 
of  2,000  vears.  In  fact,  the  accumulation  of  (i.odO  vears  ol' 
history  and  civilization  are  represented  by  that  little  stormy 

(  <iS  ) 


SYDNEY  HKADLANDS  AND  HAKBOR. 


09 


sti'ip  of"  Irish  coast  to  tlio  Yoviigor  from  the  hmd  Avliich  has 
lew  .iiKMUiiiieiits  Jind  no  ruins,  iiiid  only  ji  brief  liistoiy. 

With  every  ne\v  huul  one  aitproaches,  these  lirst  impres- 
sions are  rencAved,  and  so  Avheii  the  l)hilf  Hues  of  Sydney 
Heads  rear  themselves  on  the  horizon  we  eagerly  crane  our 
necks  and  strain  our  eyes  for  a  glimpse  of  the  new  Australian 
(.ontinent  which  is  about  to  open  before  us.  We  do  not  have 
to  wait  long  for  a  fuller  revelation  of  the  fair  vision,  for 
very  soon  after  the  headlands  are  sighted  we  steam  in  be- 
tween the  two  sentinels  that  guai'd  the  magnificent  land- 
locked harbor  of  Svdney. 

>yo  wonder  that  the  New  South  Welchmen  are  proud  of 
their  harbor,  "as  proud  as  though  they  had  scooped  it  out 
themselves,"  as  some  one  has  ill-naturedly  I'emai'ked.  It  is 
one  of  the  harbors  that  cannot  be  overpraised.  A  small  dic- 
tionai'v  of  adjectives  might  be  em])tied  in)on  the  description 
and  it  would  scarcely  be  overdone. 

It  has  hundreds  of  miles  of  coast  line,  and  on  the  map 
looks  like  a  great  octopus  which  has  been  flattened  out  by 
some  tremendous  kind  of  liydraulic  ])ressure,  whose  arms 
aad  tentacles  run  far  u[)  into  the  country,  affording  number- 
less beautiful  bays  and  lovely  retreats,  Avhich,  in  many 
places,  are  as  wild  and  rugged  as  when  ra])t.  Cook  iirst 
sailed  by  the  narrow  entrance;  for  it  is  a  singular  fact  that 
this  bold  navigator,  though  he  discovered  Botany  Bay  only 
a  few  miles  distant,  entirely  passed  by  this  most  wonderful 
liai'bor,  so  straight  and  narrow  is  the  way  that  leads  to  it 
from  the  oi)en  sea. 

Ill  fact,  the  early  navigators  all  seem  to  have  had  diffi- 
culty ill  iinding  this  great  continent.  One  wouhl  think  that 
a  niagnilicent  stretch  of  land  which  occupies  so  large  a  por- 
tion of  the  earth's  surface  could  have  been  easily  discovered, 
esiiecially  by  those  who  are  searching  for  it,  but  in  those 


70 


SKILLFUL   PILOTING   OF  TO-DAY. 


|! 


■.. 


days  in  the  little  sliall()])s  that  wore  at  the  command  of  the 
explorers,  it  was  no  easy  thin<^  to  discover  even  such  a  vast 
island  as  Australia. 

To-day  the  navigator  sets  sail  from  San  Francisco,  7,000 
miles  away,  and,  precisely  on  schedule  time,  to  a  single  hour 
])robal)ly,  with  trusty  compass  and  skillful  })ilot,  he  will  steer 
.straiglit  througli  the  middle  of  the  narrow  passage  that 
leads  to  the  city  <^f  Sydney,  But  800  years  ago,  without 
chart  ov  j»ilot,  it  was  a  ditfei'ent  thing  to  feel  one's  way 
across  these  misty,  unknown  seas  at  the  mercy  of  the  uncer- 
tain sails  and  the  certain  gales  of  the  Southern  Pacilic. 
Although  it  seems  that  he  could  not  have  missed  the  island 
<'ontinent  he  was  searching  for,  yet  it  is  said  that  Torres,  the 
l)()ld  navigator,  sailed  directly  through  the  narrow  strait 
Avliidi  now  bears  liis  name,  and  which  separates  Australia 
from  j\ew  (luinea,  without  knowing  that  there  was  land  on 
<'itlier  side;  certainly  without  knowing  that  he  was  almost 
Avithin  sift-ht  of  one  of  tiie  mightiest  divisions  of  the  earth's 
.surface,  lie  missed  the  glory  by  a  hair's  breadth,  as  it  were, 
of  adding  to  his  laurels  and  perhaps  giving  his  name  to  a 
continent. 

Otlier  early  navigators  had  the  same  difficulty  in  finding 
this  elusive  land.  The  Dutch  in  the  Dreyfhen^  or  Dove,  a 
little  vessel  which  stretched  its  wings  and  flew  away  from 
Holland  in  the  year  lOOO,  first  saw  the  main  land  of  Aus- 
tralia, but  the  Dutch  had  no  use  for  it,  and  did  not  think  it 
worth  while  to  claim  possession. 

Perha])s  from  theii"  stan(l])oint  of  a  home-land  half  sub- 
merged with  water,  they  did  not  appreciate  such  a  high  and 
<lry  continent  as  Australia  proved  to  be.  At  any  rate  they 
made  no  attempt  to  explore  or  colonize  the  land,  and  it  was 
left  to  Captain  Cook,  more  than  150  years  later,  to  make  the 
first  discovery  which  was  really  of  value  to  the  European 


THE  NOAH  S  ARK  OF  THE  NATURALIST. 


71 


world.  Tie  set  sail  in  the  little  ship  ^)i<7t'«vo;* ;  suggestive 
name  tluit,  considering  the  purpose  Avhicli  has  taken  the 
wi'iter  of  this  chronicle  to  Australia.  II is  ])rincipal  purpose 
was  to  make  (observations  in  regard  to  the  transit  of  Venus 
which  was  not  visible  in  the  AVestern  Hemisphere,  but  he 
combined  discovery  with  Jistronomy,  and  not  only  proved 
from  the  transit  of  Venus  that  the  sun  was  something  more 
thiiii  ninety  millions  of  miles  away  from  the  earth,  a  dis- 
tance which,  up  to  that  time,  had  not  been  accurately  meiis- 
iircd.  but  also  proved  that  there  was  a  vast  unknown  land  in 
in  these  southern  seas  waiting  for  the  first  occujoant  who 
nii<;ht  raise  the  luitional  Hag  and  take  possessi<m  in  the 
name  of  modern  civilization  and  Christianity. 

Geolofficallv,  Australia  is  said  to  bo  one  of  the  oldest 
portions  of  the  earth's  surface,  and  in  its  ])hysical  aspects 
and  natural  ])roducts  it  is  extremely  interesting  to  the  nat- 
ui'ulist.  In  fact,  it  is  a  kind  of  Noah's  Ark  in  which  has 
been  preserved  the  animals  and  the  plants  which  hmg  ago 
died  out  of  Europe  and  America.  The  animals  which  in 
th»!  older  world  flourished  in  the  secondary  and  tei'tiary 
|)('riod.  but  which  are  now  as  extinct  as  the  Dodo  himself, 
arc  still  found  in  large  numbers  in  this  land.  The  kangaroo 
iiiid  tli(>  wallaby  and  all  the  allied  races  of  marsupials  which 
once  were  common  in  Europe  and  America,  are  distinctive 
and  characteristic  animals  of  Australia. 

Th(^  I'cason,  says  the  naturalist,  for  this  strange  survival 
of  these  great-grandfather  animals  which  long  ago  gave  up 
the  ghost  in  Europe,  is,  that  Australia  has  not  been  sub- 
jected to  such  fearful  convulsions  of  nature  as  the  rest  of  the 
woild.  She  has  not  been  drowned  out  by  the  flood  or 
ground  down  by  the  glacier,  or  had  all  her  animal  and  vege- 
table life  frozen  up  in  a  great  ice  age  ;  so  these  interesting 
animals  of  a  pre-historic  period  still  live  and  flourish  on  her 


72 


NATURE  HOSTILE   TO   THE  SAVACJE. 


vast  inliind  ])liiins.  Aiistriilia,  however,  could  never  bocome 
a  f^-i'eat  and  important  factor  in  tlio  world's  progress  without 
the  aid  of  civili/.ed  men.  Her  natui'al  resources,  though 
great,  requii'ed  to  be  (levelo])ed.  The  rainy  seasons  are 
uncertain  over  a  large  ]K)rti(>ii  of  the  continent,  and  the 
droughts  alone  can  be  i-elied  upon.  They  come  with  pro- 
voking regularity. 


MALE   AlJOKIorXAL  AUSTHALIAN. 

The  savage  could  not  tickle  this  ground  with  a  hoe  and 
expect  it  to  smile  Avitli  a  harvest,  lie  could  not  plant  a 
cocoanut  tree  and  live  uiuler  its  shade  and  on  its  nuts  all  the 
rest  of  his  days.  The  arid  soil,  the  intense  heat,  and  the 
lack  of  ]noisture  were  against  him,  and  as  lie  could  not  cope 
with  these  natural  disadvantages  without  the  a]>pliances  of 
civilization,  the  poor  fellow  became  a  very  abject  and 
wretched  specimen  of  a  human  being;  not  fierce  and  strong 
like  the  North  American  Indian,  not  vigorous  and  warlike 


THK    VVHITK   MAN's   PLOW    AND  SPADE. 


73 


like  the  Zulu,  not  ^ay  iiiul  careless  in  the  iibundaiico  of  trop- 
ical bounty  Hko  tli(;  South  Sea  Islander;  ho  dej^eneratod 
into  a  poor,  miserable,  abject  bushnian,  who  has  already 
been,  for  the  most  part,  "  civilized  "  off  the  face  of  the  earth, 
l^ut  poor  as  was  the  country  for  the  untutored  savage 
when  the  white  man  canii;  with  his  plow  and  his  sj)a(le, 
his  steam  drill  una  his  locomotive,  this  neglected  continent 


FKMAl.K    AUOItldlNAI,    AI'STIiAMAN. 


became  a  new  land  and  has  yet  a  gi'eat  place  to  fill  among 
the  nations  of  the  earth.  Civilized  man  with  the  history  of 
the  ages  behind  him,  was  able  to  make  the  desert  blossom  as 
th(M'ose;  to  store  the  water  of  the  Avet  season  for  the  exi- 
gencies of  the  dry ;  to  find  in  the  nutritious  buffalo  grass  the 
best  fodder  in  all  the  world  for  his  sheep,  and  to  discover  in 
the  bowels  of  the  earth  the  richest  stores  of  gold  that  have 
ever  been  unearthed    since  the    days   of    King  Solomon. 


■  '• 


74 


PERPT.EXINQ  TO  STRANGERS. 


Where  sava<^os  could  not  live  the  En^^lishnian  luis  built  some 
of  the  most  iua<,milicent  cities  on  the  surface  of  the  globe; 
where  the  poor  bushnien  grew  thin  and  emaciated,  with 
scarcely  strength  or  spirit  left  to  spear  a  kangaroo,  the  Eng- 
lislnnan  luis  grown  stout  and  healthy,  hearty  and  ha])py, 
and  is  founding  a  new  nation  wiiich  will  surely  be  in  the 
future  ages  the  greater  Britain. 

When  one  first  comes  to  Australia  many  things  strike 
him  as  being  strange  and  out  of  ])lace,  but  he  soon  begins  to 

ask  whether  ]K)ssib]y  liis  notions 
and  ideas  are  not  at  fault,  and 
not  the  country,  and  whether  Ikk 
is  not  carrying  his  traditional  pre- 
judices around  with  him.  Why, 
for  instance,  should  not  the  trees 
put  forth  their  buds  and  leaves 
in  September  instead  of  in  April  ( 
It  looks  odd  enough  at  Jli'st 
when  the  traveler  reaches  Australian  shores  after  the  scorch- 
ing days  of  midsummer  and  the  early  breezes  of  fall  have 
begun  to  blow,  to  find  that  summer  is  not  behind  him  but 
before  him,  that  it  is  not  autumn,  but  s])ring  ;  that  the  trees, 
instead  of  doifing  their  fall  livery,  are  donning  their  spring 
dresses,  and  that  all  nature  is  waking  up  for  a  new  year  oi 
growth  and  activity. 

It  is  said  that  the  trees  that  arc  transplanted  from 
Europe  or  Xorth  America,  ai"e  themselves  very  nmch  con- 
fused })y  this  change  in  their  surroundings ;  that  at  first 
they  make  a  few  feeble  attempts  to  bud  forth  in  May  and 
drop  their  loaves  in  October,  but  they  soon  accept  the  Aus- 
tralian seasons  as  they  are  made  for  them. 

A  most  excellent  thing  it  is  for  a  man  of  unreasonal)le 
prejudices  and  provincial  proclivities,  to  take  such  a  journov 


AliOUHilNAI-    MKTiron   OF 
PKUUICINU    KIUK. 


AN   OVERTURNTNO   OF   PRECONCEIVED   IDEAS. 


75 


as  this.  All  his  ])rec()nceive(l  notions  are  knocked  on  tlie 
head,  so  to  sjjeak.  His  ideas  of  what  is  lit  and  i)i'o|)er  for 
Nature  to  do  are  completely  upset,  and  if  lie  is  a  wise  man 
he  will  be«^in  to  say,  j)erha[)s,  alter  all,  wisdom  will  not  die 
with  me,  possibly  my  ancestors  did  not  know  everything- 
tluM'e  was  to  be  known,  and  there  may  be  new  ways  and 
methods  which  are  not  to  be  despised  simply  because  I  was 
not  educated  in  them.  I  know  of  more  than  one  good  man 
whose  eminently  respectable  ideas  I  would  like  to  have 
turned  topsy-turvy  by  some  such  transiti<m  from  a  northern 
to  a  southern  hemisphere  of  thought. 

Hut  it  must  be  confessed  that  in  other  ways  besides  turn- 
ing the  seasons  end  to  end,  Australia  works  havoc  with  oui* 
preconceived  notions  of  things.  The  cherries,  for  instance, 
instead  of  covering  up  their  stones  with  a  good  layer  of  flesh, 
wear  their  hearts  upon  their  sleeves,  so  to  speak,  or  at  least, 
bear  their  pits  upon  the  outside,  instead  of  beneath  the  skin, 
as  all  well-regulated  cherries  are  suj)pose(l  to  do.  The 
Eucalyptus  trees,  and  some  other  varieties,  instead  of  shed- 
ding their  leaves,  have  a  strange  fashion  of  shedding  their 
l):ifk,  and  one  sees  great  forests  of  them  standing  bare  and 
giiunt,  with  the  bark  falling  off  in  shreds  and  ribbons  while 
th<'y  stretch  their  white  arms  heavenward,  but  their  tops  aro 
ill  ways  covered  with  a  dull  green  leaf  which  they  never  part 
with  under  any  circumstances. 

Much  of  the  Australian  wood,  instead  of  floating  as  all 
well-regulated  wood  should  iloat  when  thrown  into  the 
water,  sinks  to  the  bottom.  Many  of  t\\o  (lowers  cover  the 
outside  of  their  ])etals  with  bi-ight  colors  instead  of  the  in- 
side, as  modest  English  flowers  almost  always  do,  and  there 
are  various  anomalies  of  this  sort,  which,  however,  are  only 
iiiHiniaiies,  I  suppose,  because  of  our  imperfect  and  narrow 
vision.    I  did  not  hear  tliat  water  ran  uj)  hill  in  Australia,  of 


f ,  .: 


'P  .  I 


111 


76 


THE   AddRESHIVK   AN(JL()-SAXON. 


that  rain  wiis  dry  uiid  snow  hot,  hut  [  should  scui'coly  huv(» 
1kh!U  surj)i'is('(l  1o  h'iini  of  such  disci'cpiincics  hcfovc  I  wciil 
away, 

AfttT  all,  c'ivili/od  human  natiirci  is  vri'v  lauch  the  same, 
liowever  natural  pi'oduets  and  inaiiimatii  natui'c  dillVis  in 
(litferent  parts  of  tln»  world.  Lovo  and  liatc,  joy  and  sor- 
row, fear  and  ho|M',  I  Mud,  ar«!  exactly  tho  sanio  at  the 
Antipodes  as  in  the  countries  with  whicli  I  am  familiar. 
Hunuin  natui-e  does  not  <lilVer  in  its  charactei'istics  hy  l)ein<^' 
trans})lante<l  from  one  hemispliero  to  another.  Tla^  Kn«2^1ish- 
man  is  very  much  tho  same  sort  of  a  creature  wherevei' 
lie  is  found,  whether  transplanted  to  America  to  ac()uire  t  le 
alleged  '"Yankee  drawl"  and  the  sharp  features  which  I 
must  say  I  think  exist  hirgely  in  the  humorist's  novel,  or 
"whether  he  crosses  the  soutliern  seas  to  take  \\\)  his  ahode  in 
Australasia;  —  ho  is  the  same  sort  of  a  being  —  resolute, 
aggressive,  jmshing,  fearless ;  sometimes  haughty  and  arro- 
gant in  his  treatment  of  inferior  races,  often  })rejudiced  and 
unjust  in  his  judgment  of  others,  but  nevertheless  a  mighty 
and  potent  factor  in  tlu^  woi'ld's  civilization.  "Without  him 
■what  would  be  tlu;  vast  prairies  of  America,  or  the  mighty 
sea-girt  continent  of  which  I  am  writing  'i  If  ever  there  wa;^ 
a  providential  race  raised  up  of  G(xl  to  do  a  j)articular  work 
in  the  world  and  exert  a  mighty  civilizing  agency,  that  rac(^ 
is  the  Anglo-Saxon. 

I  feel  that  it  is  necessary  to  be  cautious  in  reco!'ding  my 
impressions  of  the  English  race  in  Australia  lest  I  lay  myself 
open  to  the  same  charges  which  I  am  tem])ted  to  bring 
oftentimes  against  other  hasty  travelers  who  have  skipped 
through  America  at  the  rate  of  a  mile  a  minute  and  then 
made  up  tiieir  minds  that  they  kn(jw  all  about  it.  ^Fy  warm 
American  ])lood  sometimes  boils  with  not  a  little  indignation 
as  I  hear  our  institutions  slurred  and  our  ])ul)lic  men  de- 


IN  THK   VAN(JL'AUI)  oi'   ('l\  IM/,ATH)N. 


faiiu'd  l>v  tlu>s(>  who  know  nothing-  iihoiit  «'itli('r  oiu'  oi-  tlic 
<»tlH'i'.  So  [  iiiiist  ho  t'lin't'ul  not  to  raise  the  hloo<l  of  tmyoiu' 
else  to  tho  hoilin^^  point  witli  unfounded  critieisnis.  Still,  as 
everyone  must  j^ivt;  his  inipi'essions,  I  would  say  that  the 
Colonies,  so  far  as  1  liav(5  seen  tiieni  and  talked  with  I'epi-e- 
stiiitative  Australians,  strikes  me  as  hein;;-  in  a  period  corre- 
s|)ondin'^  to  the  Colonial  days  of  Amei'ica  before  tlu;  glorious 
era  of  lT7<i  dawn«;d  upon  us. 

Not  that  the  Australian  C^olonies  are  100  v(»ai's  l)ehind 


hty 
him 
^■hty 

work 
rac(^ 


nyseli 
bring 
dipped 
I  then 
T  warm 
nation 
len  de- 


IN   THK    CiUOl'NDS  OK    (JOVKUNMKNT    IIOISK.    SYDNEY. 

tlio  times  by  any  means.  They  arc  fully  abreast  of  tho  most 
recent  civilization.  All  the  appliances  and  inventions  and 
elegancies  of  civilized  life  are  found  here,  and  I  ima,'ino  that 
11  new  invention  of  Edison,  or  a  labor-saving  contrivance  of 
^IcCormick,  would  be  introduced  (juite  as  soon  itito  these 
pi'ogi'essive,  go-ahead  colonies  as  they  would  in  any  ])art  of 
America,  and  far  more  raindlv  than  thev  would  \n'  likely  to 
!»(■  introduced  into  England.  The  fashions,  too,  are  as  recent, 
toi'augiit  T  know;  tho  store  windcnvs  are  certainly  as  ele- 
gant, the  streets  of  such  cities  as  ^felboni'ne  are  as  wide, 
and  the  puljlic  buildings  as  magnificent  as  any  that  can  be 


78 


VAST    DESKKTS    AND    I'NWATKKKI)    IM.AINH. 


i 


r 


found  in  all  the  world.     Viit  I  am  rcniindcd  cvc^ry  day  that,  in 

somo  respects  Australia   is  very  niucli  like  North  America 

"III  lli(!  K"<"l  "I'l  Colony  (liiys 
When  we  lived  iiiidcr  tlie  Kiiifj." 

The  ]»o|)ida,tion  of  th(!se  (Joloni(!s  is  Vi^ry  nearly  the  same  as 
of  th(!  i;'>  orioinid  States  that  made;  up  the  Union  in  177*I, 
soin(!thiti^  lil<(^  three  or  lour  millions  of  people-  formin^^  a 
Irin^'c  of  setthfmcnt  alono'  tin;  seashor-e  for-  thousands  of 
mih'S.  TIm!  tar  intci'ior,  for  the  most  part,  is  a /^rr«  m^joy- 
nita^  waitini^  lor  the  hardy  pioncci-  and  th(!  adventurous 
settler. 

When  I  was  a,  hoy,  an<'.  that  is  not  so  very  many  years 
a^o  aftei' all,  t.'ic  old  f^cooi'ii plucks  still  had  a,  traet  of  land 
ooveriri"^  neai'ly  the  whoh;  ar<'a  west  of  the  Mississippi, 
labeled  "The  (Ireat  American  Desi'rt."  (iradually  this 
f^reat  Amei'ieaii  Desert  has  ^n'own  smaller  I  y  de<;r(!es  and 
h(!autit'ull V  less  until  it  is  now  eordined  to  a,  eom|)aj'ativ(!lv 
narrow  sti'ip  of  outlyin;^  j)lains,  which  themselves  ai'(!  not  he 
yond  hope  of  ultimate  redem[)tion.  So  I  have  no  douht  the 
vast  deserts  and  unwatc^red  plains  of  the  une.\|»lored  interior 
of  this  mio-hty  land  will  one  of  these  days  ''Id  to  tlie 
prowess  of  the  |>ioiieer  and  the  sturdy  toil  of  the  .S(d.tler  until 
all  Australia  blossoms  like  tlie  rose. 

In  its  political  h-at iires.  too.  t he  Australasian  Colonies  are 
not  at  all  uidikethe  Amei'ican  ('oloni<'S  \n'\^)Vi'  the  lf(U'ohi- 
tion.  Jealous  of  their  riohts,  the\  hrook  no  interfereiiee 
from  the  Mother  ( 'omit  i-y  to  which  they  still  (»we  alleo'iaiice. 
If  she  should  attempt  to  imi)ose  a  tax  on  tea  there  would  !"■ 
the  o'l'eatesl  lea  pari  v  in  Melhoiinie  llarhor  that  was  ever 
seen.  The  liostoii  tea  party  would  scarcely  he  a  circmii- 
stanc<^  to  this  .\iisti'aliau  '"  tea-meet ino'."'  If  an  oh.itiiiati' 
Kiny' (i(!oi'o'e  III  was  <»n  thellir<iiie  instead  of  her  ( JracioMS 
Majesty    (  "  hei-   (ioo(lness-<  iracioiis    Majesty'"  some  of  tlir 


AN    INDULdKNT    MOTIIKU. 


71) 


Aijsti'iilijm  jKipci's  cjill  hci-)  (jiiccri  V'i(;t()riji,  it,  \V(»iil(l  not 
Itr  l»»ii^,  probably,  bdor-cf  {\u'sr.  ("oloiiics  would  set  ii|)  lioiisc- 
kc('|)iii;^'  foi'  tli(Miis('lv('s,  and  cut  llicinsclvcs  wholly  adrift 
iroiii  Mother  Mii;^l;md,  lli;it  k»'('|»s  house  jit,  home.  l!iil,iis  it 
IS,  they  t'e('l  IK)  pressure  of  iiiateriial  aiithoi'ity. 

The  old  l;idy  soiiiet  imes  scolds,  to  be  sure,  jiiid  is  somo- 
liiiies  considered  indiU'ei'dil  to  her  children's  welhire,  bnt. 
sh(!  never  attein|)ts  to  "  boss"  t  hem  ("boss,"  bv  the  way, 
is  as  ^ood  Australian  as  it,  is  American),  and  so  the  Colo- 
nies ^ive  a,  willin<:-,  if  not  in  all  cases  a  vei'V  enthusiastic, 
.dlci^-iaiice  to  (he  Mother  Land. 

In  the  "  ;j^'ood  old  ('oloiiy  diiys,"  too,  of  which  we  sin^"",  if 
I  read  history  aright,  our  dill'ei'eid  colonies  were  very  jeal- 
ous of  each  other  e;ich  afraid  that  tin-  ot  her  would  "^'ain 
t,li(!  advantai^'i!  and  obtain  some  |)redominant  power. 

IlistoiT  is  re|)eatine'  itself  a^^ain  in  this  Soulhei-n  world. 
Wlmthei'  the  principle  of  \'vi'i'  ti'ade  oi'  protection  is  I  lie  truct 
Me  I  have  no  occasion  to  say  in  this  chronicle,  but  it  doe;^. 
seem  ver'V  strail^^'e  tiiJit  the  ('olouies  should  |trotec(  them- 
selves so  zealously  one  a;^'ainst  another.  'I'hey  are  raising"; 
their  tai'ilf  (hit  ies  hi;^'lier  and  hii^'her,  I  understand,  not,  oidy 
a;^;iinst  all  th<;  rest  of  the  world,  but  atiaJnst  theii'  sister 
colonies.  The  oratic'es  of  New  S(»uth  Wales  must  be  taxed 
helure  they  call  come;  int(»  \'ict,oria,  and  the  rues  of  New 
/ealaiid  must.  |>ay  a,  hea\y  duty  before  they  c;m  be  wrapped 
ioiiimI  Australian  knees.  It  is  as  tliou;;ii  New  Jlampshire 
sliuuld  jirolect,  herself  against  the  dread  incursions  of  \'er- 
iiKinl  iiiiipic  su<;;ir.  and  \'eriiioiit  should  set  up  ;i  Icirrier 
:i'j:iiiist  the  exportation  of  New  Hampshire  ;.;'!';iiiile,  and 
iiriila  should  object  to  Maine  ice  unless  it  was  duly  taxed, 
aii'l  ,Maine  should  retort  by  piittin;^'  an  iiii|»ost  on  l''loi'idii, 
''i:iM'jes.  However,  h'<lei'ation  is  ill  t  he  ;iir  just  as  it  was  in 
III''  North  American  air  in  the  latter  part  of  llie  last  cen- 
tury. 


80 


A    PROPIIKCV    OF    FKDEKATrON. 


I 


Tlicre  is  fcdtM-atioii  iilrciuly  in  s(!iitiiii<>nt  Jind  purposes 
against  Hk;  iigij^n^ssion  of  all  tlio  rest  of  tlio  world.  TlnH't^  is 
fcMJcration  of  (Christian  sentiment  and  religious  ])ur[)os(;,  and, 
doubtless,  before  the  IDth  century  conies  to  aclose  there  will 
b(!  j)oliti(,'al  f(!(lerati(in,  just  as  the  close  of  the  iSth  century 
marks  the  political  fedenition  which  has  ever  since  been 
growing  strong(ir  and  strongei*  Ix'tween  tlu^  states  of  the 
Amei'ican  Union. 

Another  impression  which  I  have  received  is  that  Aus- 
tralia is  a  mixture!  in  about  ecpial  j)roportions  of  British 
conservatism  and  American  aggressiveness,  a  splendid  mix- 
ture that,  sinc(!  both  (jualities  ar(!  needed  to  makci  up  the 
ideal  race,  and  either  alone ,  though  admiral)le  in  itself,  can 
be  carried  too  far.  Sydney  is  said  to  Ite  very  Kiiglish,  Mel- 
bourne very  Anu^rician,  and  I  think  there;  is  some  reason  for 
this  distinction,  which  the  Australians  often  comment  upon 
tiiemselves.  Sydney  was  settled  1<>()  years  ago,  and  its  nar- 
row streets  and  crooked  lanes  remind  me  of  the;  j)ictures(|U<! 
city  which,  like;  all  loyal  liostonians,  I  regard,  of  courses,  as 
the  "hub"  of  the;  Universe. 

Melbourne,  on  the;  other  hand,  is  a  modern  city  built 
within  the  last  oO  y(>ars,  and  its  wide  streets  and  elegant 
bouhnards,  its  magniticent  public  buildings,  and  extensive; 
stores,  woulel  h'ad  e)ne'  who  was  set  de)wn  in  it  with  liis  e;yes 
blindfoleleel  te)  imagine;  he;  was  in  any  e)ne;  e)f  half  a  ele)zen  e)f 
our  me)st  wiele-awake  weistern  cities.  Te)  be;  sure;  he;  we)ul(l 
finel  it  ratlie;r  cle>ane'r  than  me)st  e)f  tlieMii,  anel  wit h  ne)  elense 
])all  of  smoke;  hieling  its  bevuitie's.  lie;  we)ulel  he-ave;  a  sigh 
anel  wish  that  e)ur  stre'e>ts  might  be  as  well  ])ave;el  anel  ke'pt 
as  cle'an,  but,  with  the;  e'Xe;e'ptie)n  e)f  a  fenv  minor  matters  e»f 
this  se>rt,  he;  wexilel  be  eMiiinently  at  Iiemie  in  the  beautiful 
city  of  Me'l bourne. 

In  Syeliie'v  almejst  every  house  has  its  balcony,  anel  this 


Sll{ 


idf 


iiiii 


•loirN  lULi,  versus  bkothkr  Jonathan. 


81 


hnilt 


is  iilso  ii  coiniiion  iiicthod  of  jircliitcM'tun'  in  ^^('lI)ollI■Il(^ 
Houses  in  Austi'Jiliii,  uvc  l)tiilt,  I'oi-  hot  wciithcr  (tlii'oUi;liout 
llic  lar^vst.  |>iii-t  ol"  the  Ainci'iciin  continent  tiiey  are  Unilt  t'oi" 
cold  weatlier)  lienc*^  tli(;  sii<j;lit,  (liU'efeiices  of  arcliitect ur(? 
w  liicli  \V(!  not  ice. 

Tliere  are,  indeed,  very  many  tliine-s  tliat  reniiml  me  of 
the  old  country,  hut  these  are  all  halanced  hy  Americanisms 
which  a|)])eiii"  at  every  coi'ner. 

l'"or  insta-iicc,  1  Jiave  more  than  once  seen  the  si^^n 
••  Man<ilin^'  <lone  liere,"  which  always  I'eminded  me  of  tin; 
iiiil'ortunat(^  Mr.  Mantalini.  N\'e  slioidd  call  the  establish- 
ment a  laundry,  1  su|>]iose.  The  dru^'j^ists  ai'e  almost  all 
••chemists,"' and  they  have  no  extravagant  mai'ble  fountain 
with  forty-two  ditferent  kinds  of  Amcricuii  driid<s  issiiin;^ 
liiei'efroni,  in  the  front  part  of  their  stores.  "IJeef  and 
liiinr'  sho|)s  I  ha,v<i  often  seen,  hut-  why  a  man  who  si^lls 
liiini  should  not  also  sell  lamb  or  otliei'  butcliei''s  meat  I  can- 
iini  (|uile  detei'mine. 

The  street  cars  are  all  "trams.'"  The  elevators  ar(>  all 
••lifts,""  and  the  railway  cai's  ai'c  all  '•coacluis."  "Why  is  it 
lliat  you  Amei'icaiis  always  ,i;'ive  such  a  bi;^'  nauu;  to  everv- 
iliin^',""  sai<i  an  Austi'alian  ^'cntleman  to  me  the  otliei"  day. 
"Why  do  you  call  a  lift  an  'elevator,"  aiul  why  is  yotu' 
'classrooin'  a  '  I'ecitution  hall,"  and  why  is  your  barber's 
sliu|)  usually  a,  'tonsoi'ial  palace  "T"  I  am  still  ])onderin^ 
these  (juestious,  and  have  not  arrive(l  as  yet  at  any  satisfac- 
tory answei'. 

Hut,  if  tlx'i'e  is  uiucli  that  is  Knnlish  tliei'e  is  also  as 
iiiiicli  that  is  distinctively  American  about  these  colonicjs. 
p'lM  a  do/.en  ai'ticles  of  conuiion  use  I  have  seen  the  name 
"^.ileui.  Mass.,"'  or  "Sin-ino'ii,.!,!,  Mass.,"  oi-  "  Tittsbureh, 
l''iinsylvania,"  or  "('hica^-o.  Illinois."''  American  books, 
A:iieiiean  watches   and    typewriters,  American    lamj)s  and 


^f 


88  AMERICAN   INVENTIONS  — "am P:RICAN   BARS." 


.M 


!v|,i;p:^" 


bicycles,  American  incandescent  li<^lits  and  teU^piiones,  and 
alas!  many  "American  bars"  from  which,  as  the  si<,^ns  tell 
us,  American  (b-inUs  are  (Hspensed,  ai'e  to  be  seen  every- 
where. I  am  not  at  all  proud  (jf  this  last  Americanism,  but 
in  many  of  the  Continental  cities  of  Euro|)(!  the  American 
bar  is  tiu;  only  American  thin<^  that  you  will  s(!e  in  idl  the 
city. 

( )ii  tin;  railway  between  Sydney  and  ]\I('lboiirn(',  Pull- 
man ciirs  of  the  very  best  constiMiction  are  used,  and  on  the 
Melbourne  sti'eets  the  swift  cable  cars  which  I  tliitd\  must 
have  been  made  in  Ti'oy,  New  ^'oi'k,^nve  one  tlr;  im])i'('ssion 
that  he  cannot  be  far  from  Kansas  ('ity,  or  Onndia,  oi'  San 
Francisco.  In  one  veiy  im|)orlant  way,  howevei'.  the  Aus- 
tralian colonies  dill'ei'  from  our  <;ai'ly  American  colonies,  and 
that  is  ii)  the  jjredominance  of  tlu^  city  life  over  tlie  country 
life.  I  should  think  that  fidly  ;")()  percent,  of  the  people  of 
Australia  live  to-day  in  the  cities,  lar<4'e  oi- small;  ncai'ly 
one-half  of  the  inhabitants  of  \'ictoria  are  <^athered  together 
alon<^'  the  beautiful  streets  of  ^Melbourne.  So  in  New  South 
AVales,  Sydney  absoi'bs  a  lar^o  proportion  of  the  population, 
while  in  South  Australia,  Adelaide;  is  not  on''-  the  capital 
and  metropolis,  but  the  oik;  center  foi-  a  vast  tei-ritoiy. 

The  rural  ])o])ulation  of  Amei'ica  is  in  some  sections 
sadly  on  tli(!  wane.  Tin;  f^'reat  cities  are  <^'r'eat  magnets 
everywhere  which  draw  tlu!  |)eoj)l(':  from  tin;  count i-y  to 
themselves.  Cntil  the  poles  of  this  nni<,nH't  can  be  rcncrsed 
in  sonn>  way,  both  in  Austi'alia  aiul  America,  and  the  jx'ople 
lind  that  theii-  haj)|)iness  is  not  in  the;  crowded  streets  of  aa 
ov«M'poj)ulated  city,  but  amid  tin*  peace?  and  plenty  of  conn 
try  life,  a  ei-eat  dan<.^er  will  always  numace  these  two  <;real 
continents.  Discontent,  anarchy,  and  revolution,  with  all 
their  hideous  evils,  are  breathed  in  the  ^'I'eat  cities;  tin;  fresh 
country  winds  blow  the  cobwebs  out  of  the  brain,  and  (lis- 


FREE   AND    IIAI'I'V    COINTKV    lAFE. 


83 


"■ 


ions 
;n('ts 
•V    to 

•l'S('<l 

coun 

h    all 

fresh 

;l  clis- 


<!(>iitent  (jut  of  tlio  lioart.  Until  both  Austi-alitiiiiul  Amoricii 
b(!Coine  lilled  witli  siiiull  liUullioldiM's,  cucli  (niltivatirifr  his 
own  litthi  \)\vvM  (jf  (Jod's  eartli,  the  problems  of  their  fu- 
ture destiny  will  not  all  be  solved. 

But,  [)redoniiniint  us  citv  life  is  in   Austrjiliu,  the  inilu- 


IN    TIIK    lilSII. 

flic-;  of  i])(\  earlv  settle)',  the  s(|iiatter,  and  tlu;  bushinan  is 
still  f(;lt.  Most  of  the  distinctive  AiistriiliMii  slaii^'  \vlii(;h  I 
have  jiciird  can  1)(^  trace(l  hack'  to  these  sources  —  thus  th(^ 
'■  hillahoni^r"  is  the  backwater  of  a  river;  t he  "  la^'oon,"  vv(; 
sImmiM  cull  it  iit  home.  The  "  bhiey  "  is  the  hlankcit  of  tlu; 
lioiilicrsmaii  in  whi^-li  he  wrajis  himself  at  nieht  and  lies 
»l')\Mi  to  sleep  wherever  he  may  \h),  under  the  siltmt  stars. 


81 


S4 


AUSTRALIAN   SLAN(;. 


The '•  hilly  "  is  tliccim  in  wliicli  he  cooks  fii-st  his  tcii  jind 
llicii  liis  iiiciit.  "\V«!  may  !«'  sure  lie  i-clislics  tliciii  hotli  !)('- 
cause  of  tlic  s|>Icn(li(l  appetite  sauce  which  was  always  upon 
his  tal)le.  These  tei'ius  have  now  (le<;('n<'rate(l  to  deiiot*'  the 
properties  of  the  ti'ainp,  and  the  huridh'  which  he  cai'ri<'S 
up(»n  his  liack  is  iiis  "swa<^'/"  The  "  larrikin '"  is  the  street 
loal'ei',  and  a  \{'yy  unpleasant  type  of  street  loafer  he  is,  too. 
as  develo|)(<l  in  these  colonies  I,  niyseir,  am  a  ••new 
ciiiini."  as  (  vei-y  new  arri\al  is  styled  in  Ausli'alian  dialect  ; 
and,  until  I  iiad  l»een  here  at  least,  live  years,  1  could  he 
only  a  ••  n<'W  chuni,"  corresponding  to  the  "  teiidorfoot'"  ol 
(»ur  mining' camps.  It  is  surely  hecomin<j;' that  a  new  chum 
should  he  careful  in  liis  commendations  and  uiodest  in  Jiis 
criticisms.  Pei'liaj)s  it  is  iiigli  time,  therefore,  that  1  should 
i)rin;j:  this  cha|)ter  to  an  end,  Ixifort^  T  commit  the  usual  indis- 
cretion of  ii  literui'y  "uew  chum"  in  a  sti-ange  land. 


niAI'TEIi  IV. 

Al'STIfAIJA    AND   AISTKAMANS- LITTLE   MATTERS   ABOUT 

A   GHHAT   CorNTUV. 


H 


III'  Houses  tlu!  People  Live  in  —  Stone  Instead  of  Wood  —  An  English- 
iiiMii's  Castle—  I'lenty  of  Soil  —  "  Stmtliroy  "  versus  "  12'J!)  E.  IMl  St." 
—  "  Maccluis,  Cestiis,  Festiis" — How  'i'licy  Travel — TIk;  Hallways  — 
Inside  llie  House — At  tlie  Dinner  Talil< — A  Pleasant  Custom  — 
Scarcity  of  Cold  Water  —  Tlie  Newspajiers — ^Sonietiines  Dull  but 
Seldom  Sensational  —  Some  Budding  Poets  —  Specimen  of  ()l>itu!iry 
I'oetry — Outdoor  Life  —  National  Oiunos  —  A  Alighty  Curse  —  The 
Turf  Adviser — The  Totalisator  —  Church  Life  — (Jreat  Conventions  — 
The  Singing  —  Cahle  Ahsurdities — A  Mexican  Invasion — Kissing  his 
Wile  on  the  Street  —  (irum-chewing  Girls  —  Chicago  Girls  and  Boston 
Maidens  —  Introdueing  Friends. 

OME  (jf  the  little  things  that  seem 
to    me   to    1)0    cliarjicteristic    of 
v^^  ^J^rfjl^'^-s^y^,      AiiHti'iiliuii  life  may  seem  hardly 
'       "^      ■  "*  '         worth  meiitiotiinj^  in  serious  con- 

verse, and  yet  it  is  these  little 
matters  tliat  diirerentiate  our 
Australian  cousins  from  their 
American   r(;latives. 

Ill   other   laitds  it    is  easy  to 

])aint     the    |)ictiir"     witli     hroad 

touches   of  the    hriish.   I)ut    in    a 

country  so  much    iik'c   our  own, 

Jiiitl  itmonf^a  jieopii;  who,  so  far. 'is  all  outward  characteristics 

^o.  hve  across  the  street,  instead  of  across  tlie  Pacific  ocean, 

Wf  liiid  peciiliarities  iind  dilTerences  only  in  minnte  thin^^s. 

TIk!  hous(;   in   which   the  Aiisti'idian   lives,   for  instance, 

0  ( S.) ) 


tI 


if- 


9 


8G 


COMKOUT  IN  sb:clusi<)X, 


ff 


i  I'i:  !^ 


llioiigli  u  most  conifoi'tiiblo  ono,  and  oftv.n  an  clcf^aiit  man- 
sion, is  (liirci'iMit  in  sornci  sii<^lit  particulai's  from  that  in 
which  his  American  n^lativc;  would  tak(^  np  his  al)od«?.  It  is 
uhnost  invai'iahly  built  of  stoiu;  or  hi-ick,  liVcu  in  the  coun- 
tiy,  instead  of  wood ;  th(;  niason  hcin^'',  I  suppose,  that 
timber  is  scarce  and  hif^h,  comjjarativeiy  speakin<^,  and  tl»e 
native  woods  do  not  easily  lend  themselves  to  the  house- 
builder's  art. 

At  any  I'ate,  oiu;  sees  very  few  modern  houses  of  the 
style  which  maki;  our  subui'ban  citi<>s  and  country  villages 
so  bright  anil  attractive,  with  tluur  many  colors  and  their 
varied  styles  of  architecture. 

Many  of  the  houses  here,  ev(;n  of  the  better  class,  are  one- 
story  buildings,  with  bculrooms  as  well  as  pai'lors  and  din- 
ing-rooms on  the  ground  lloor,  ))ut  they  are  high  and  com- 
modious ai)artments  and  doubtless  have;  soiik;  a<lvantages  in 
this  hot  climate  ovei-  the  numy-stoi'ied  sti'uctures  with  which 
Me  are  ac(juainted.  Moreover,  f(;r  every  Austi'alian  his 
house  is  his  castle,  and  in  this  mattei'  he  shows  his  English 
breeding  and  trainiu"-.  lb;  shuts  himself  in  fi-om  all  the 
woi'ld  with  liiji'li  lied^'es  and  tences.  The  ci'usade  for  the 
abolishment  of  fences  and  luMlges,  with  which  we  arc  so 
familiar,  would  meet  willi  no  favoi'  in  this  land. 

So  it  comes  about  that  the  streets  of  tin;  suburban  towns 
hav(!  a  m()i'(!  foj'bidding  and  unsocial  asp(H't  than  our  streets 
at  lionu'.  Tliei'c^  is  none  of  tln^  pai'k-likti  ell'ect  which  is 
•  given  to  a,  beautiful  suburban  town,  by  I'einoving  all  fences 
and  obstacles  to  th(>  view,  and  allowing  tlu^  ])remises  of  ad- 
ioininj'' neiirliboi's  to  conu!  too'etlHii"  with  oidv  an  inuiii'lnarv 
line  between  them.  Uut  after  all  when  you  once  g(;t  behind 
an  Australian's  fence  oi'  an  Hnglisliman's  hedge,  tliei'c^  is  a  joy 
in  the  sense  of  seclusion  and  quiet  retirement  which  one  can 
tiardly  experience^  in  the  o})en.  thoroughfai'(>  of  an  American 


ITS  I 

in;i; 
-';iil 

t'  ;l 

'.Vi! 

tl'oil 
Moil 

OJlr 


M 


SPACK   ENor(JlI    AND    TO   SI'AUK. 


87 


town.  You  I'md,  too,  tliut  wliiit  yon  tf)ok  t'oi"  ('xclnsivoncss 
is  only  SI  national  rcscrvo  and  that  tlio  wai'nicst  kind  of  hos- 
pitality is  cxtcnihul  Ut  those;  who^ct  hehind  these  foritiddiny- 
tenues. 

The  Australian  believes  in  havin^^  plenty  of  land  about 
liini,  and  why  shouldn't  ho^  If  tliei-e  is  on(?  tiling  of  which 
tli(!re  is  enouf^^h  in  this  <^reat  contincmt,  it  is  ^^othe^  Kai'th. 
Only  a  little  frin<,^(^  of  her  soil  liere  as  yet  has  been  subdued. 
No  wonder  that  the  Australian  household(>r  ehooses  to  have 


•'li, 


so 


IN     ADKI.AIDK. 

:i  Li'ood  <^enerous  (juota  for  his  hous(>-lot  and  garden.  The 
icsiilt  is  that  these  cities  spread  out  enormously,  and  Wash- 
ington must  yield  the  palm  of  being  considered  "the  city  of 
iiiagnidcent  distances"  to  Melbourne  and  Sydney  and  Ad- 
elaide and  IJallarat.  In  Alelbourne,  for  instance,  tliei-e  seems 
l<  iie  no  residential  portioii  of  the  city  foi'  the  better  classes 
wiiliin  less  than  threi;  or  foui'  miles  fi'om  Collins  strei^t,  and 
tl'iiisands  of  the  business  nuMi  live  half  a  scoi'e  of  miles  oi' 
I  I'H'e  away  from  their  ollicc's. 

When  we  get  to  their  houses  we  find  that  each  oile  has  a 
distinctive  individuality  of  its  own,  which  is  very  ])leasing  to 
»>iie  accustomed  to  i-esidences  known  only  l)y  an  unsynn)a- 


88 


DLSTINCTIVE   NAMES. 


M  H 


thotic  nuinlHM".  For  instiincc,  it  is  inncli  inorc  ploasinn-,  jn 
my  (.'stimatioii.  In  live  at  "Stratliroy,"  or  "St.  Kilda."  or 
"  Ilai'oldinc,"  than  to  liav(^  your  abode  at  "  l'J2l>  East  lUst 
sti'oot."  llou'  can  cliiidivn  ever  luivc!  an  uircction  for  ''No. 
<»2T'V  I  low  can  the  liouscliold  <j,()ds  (^vcir  ho  pcrinancntly 
sot  up  on  a  six-story  Mat  in  '•4'Jli.i  A,  Ttttli  Avonue"^ 

Hut  to  have  a  lioinc  of  youi'  own  with  its  distinctive 
nanio  which  is  appi'opriatcd  l»y  no  one  else!  Ahl  then;  is 
a  sensation  of  homeliness  comes  over  one  when  wo  but  seo 
the  nauK!  u|)on  the  ^'•ate  j>ost  I 

irowovei",  some  of  these  names,  I  must  say,  sti'ike  me  as 
peculiai'.  In  order  to  ^ct  a  (hll'ei'ent  hom<'  desi^tiation  IVom 
any  oik;  else,  chihli'on's  nauu's  are  sonu'times  usimI,  and  I 
have  soon  "  Emnui  House"  and  "  Alice  Terrace"  and 
"^Afaudina"  and  "Susana."  One  row  of  houses  which  J 
havo  s<M>n  was  named  "  \'oltaii'e."'  "  liousseau,"  and  "  ]{enan." 
IIow  any  builder  could  hope  to  let  such  houses  to  a  ('hris- 
tian,  I  do  not  understand. 

Still  another  terrace  of  liouses  I  havo  seen  labeled 
"IJaccinis,"  "Oestus,"  and  "  Festus."  With  all  my  love 
for  individuality  and  btr  distinctive  names,  I  must  say  I 
think  that  this  is  a  littk?  ovordoiny;  it.  I  should  alwavs  feel 
ashamed  to  live  in  a  house  that  b(-r<!  the  name  of  the  old 
inobriato  "Bacchus";  and  as  for  datin<^  my  l(>ttei's  fi'om 
*' Festus,"  I  Avould  pay  a  larg-ely  increased  rent  I'ather  than 
submit  to  any  such  indiy-nity. 

I  havo  found  the  modes  of  roadway  traveling  in  Aus- 
tralia much  like  those  to  which  we  are  accustomed,  with  tla; 
exco])tion  that  oui'  fi'iends  hei'e  very  much  affect  a  certain 
species  of  English  ti'ap  which  T  have  never  seen  at  home,  in 
which  the  driver  has  the  best  seat  of  all,  and  the  pcojjle 
whom  lie  drives,  if  there  is  more  than  one,  get  along  as  best 
they  can  on  a  kind  (jf  perch  with  their  backs  to  the  horses. 


( 

ill 

<) 

on 

;ni 


III. 

fri.r 


I' 


A    VVEMi    MANA(JKI)    KAILWAV    HYSTKM. 


89 


il> 


whih'  they  aro  cari'liil  to  avoid  the  drivor's  reins  wliicli  are 
alwuvs  in  close  proximity  to  tln'ir  c.irs.  However,  this  ti'ap 
liiis  tlie  adviintiiji'e  of  i)eiiio-  i-ooiny  and  easy  to  enter,  and  for 
father  and  ni»»lher  and  a  small  family  of  chiMren  is  jnst  the 
thinu;. 

The  raih'oads  seem  to  me  well  manati'ed  and  well 
e(pii|>|)ed.  The  road  i)eds  are  splemlidly  ballasted,  the  sta- 
tions are  suhstantial  thon;ih  not  ele<iant,  and  evervthinj; 
ahont  the  i'ollin<i^  stock  is  on  a  par  with  our  lii'st-class  Amer- 
ican  I'oads. 

To  1k^  sure  th(\v  clin^^  to  the  old,  exclusive,  Kn^lish  com- 
|)artment  system  for  the  most  pai't,  i)Ut  the  cai's  are  well 
iipli<»lstei'e(l.  and  neai'ly  all  who  can  aH'oi'd  it  seem  to  ride 
lii'st-class,  wiiereas  in  Kn<:^land  it  is  a  commo!!  sayin<^  that 
oidy  lords,  fools,  and  Americans  ever  j)atronize  th<>  tirst-class 
railway  carriage.  1  have  seen  no  third-class  cars,  and  the 
second-class  ai-e  very  comfoi'tahle,  thcMi^h  far  outnumbered 
i)y  the  lirst-class  comi)ai'tm<'nts. 

On  somciof  the  roads  rnllman  cars  aro  in  constant  use. 
On  others,  Mann  boudoir  cars  are  pi'et'erred.  (Irado  cross- 
in<;s  are  abolished  as  far  as  ])ossible,  and  more  care  is  taken 
of  life  and  limb  than  on  oui-  avei'ag'e  railway  lines.  Here 
one  ste])s  immediately  from  tlit!  ])latform  into  the  car,  in- 
stead of  goinf^  up  two  or  three  steps  as  in  our  cars,  and  a 
Ix'll  about  the  size  of  a  dinner  bell,  vigorously  run<^, 
iimiounces  the  hour  of  departure. 

To  show  how  nmch  custom  has  to  do  with  our  views  of 
the  (itness  of  things,  I  was  amused  to  hear  an  Australian 
friend,  who  had  been  traveling-  in  Amei-ica,  say  tiiat  it 
soeined  strange  to  her  to  climb  a  short  flight  of  stairs  before 
getting  into  our  cars,  and  tliat  it  seemed  preposterous  for 
the  en'^-ineer  to  ring  a  bell  as  big  as  a  church  bell  whenever 
the  ti'ain  started.     "Well,  I  had  always  regarded  the  three 


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90 


FOUR  MEALS   A   DAY. 


fllt^ 


or  four  steps  as  the  most  natural  means  of  getting  into  a 
railway  car  myself,  and  as  for  tlie  churcli-bell  to  which  she 
alluded,  I  had  never  regarded  it  in  that  preposterous  light. 
But  I  thought  I  would  be  careful  after  hearing  her  remark 
about  saying  anything  about  the  Austi-alian  railway  dinner 
bell,  or  any  other  little  peculiarities  Avhich  struck  me  as 
o;ldities. 

We  have  found  now  our  Australian  home  and  the  means 
of  locomotion  by  which  we  reach  it.  As  we  enter  the  aver- . 
age  home  of  the  well-to-do,  we  find  a  large  and  commodious 
parlor,  a  well-stocked  library,  a  dining-room  and  a  breakfast 
room,  which  in  tiie  season  (and  almost  every  season  in  Aus- 
tralia i.-i  the  season  of  flowers)  are  gay  with  blossoms  from 
the  abundant  garden. 

The  dining-room  always  interests  the  hungry  traveler,  so 
we  will  enter  it.  A  beautiful  fashion,  which  I  have  never 
seen  practiced  to  the  same  extent  elsewhere,  is  that  of  deco- 
rating the  table,  for  it  is  typical  of  the  Australian  as  of  the 
Englishman  that  he  makes  a  good  deal  more  of  the  dining 
table  than  is  usually  done  by  the  average  American  family. 

He  indulges  in  four  meals  instead  of  three,  though  the 
late  supper  at  night  is  often  a  very  informal  affair,  and  he 
frequently  finds  room  for  a  cup  of  tea  between  meals.  As 
for  getting  along  on  two  meals  a  day,  as  some  of  our  more 
aesthetic  IS^ew  Englanders  are  accustomed  to  do,  he  would 
spurn  the  idea.  The  center  of  the  table  is  beautifully  deco- 
rated with  bright  velvet  or  brilliant  cloths  of  other  kinds, 
and  is  gay  with  flowers,  and  often  in  the  evening  with  fairy 
lamps,  Avhich  add  to  the  brilliant  effect.  The  average  Aus- 
tralian does  not  indulge  in  so  many  hot  biscuits,  porterhouse 
steaks,  buckwheat  cakes,  etc.,  as  his  friends  across  the  sea. 
but  his  table  is  always  abundantly  and  often  lavishly  spread 
with  cold  meats,  bread  of  different  kinds,  ])astries  and  pud- 


GINGER   ALE   OK   ICE   WATER. 


91 


(lings,  and  "  sweets  "  under  wliich  genei'ic  term  are  grouped 
marmalade  and  jam,  jellies  and  syrups  of  various  kinds. 

Of  course  the  teaj)ot  is  there,  (occasionally  the  cotfeejoot, 
very  often  the  syphon  of  seltzer  water  and  ginger  ale,  and, 
most  rarely  of  all,  the  water  pitcher.  In  fact,  I  think  that 
some  of  my  Australian  iiionds  scarcely  know  the  taste  of 
unadulterated  water,  and,  as  for  ice  water,  I  imagine  they 
would  abominate  it  as  an  invention  of  the  arch  enemy  of 
mankind.  1  have  seen  hands  hehl  u})  almost  in  horror  at  the 
thought  of  the  dreadful  American  practice  of  drinking  ice 
water  on  all  j)ossible  occasions,  and  under  all  circumstances, 
and  it  seems  to  be  a  standing  wonder  with  many,  how  any 
of  us  manage  to  survive  the  ])eriod  of  infancy  with  all  the 
various  iced  drinks  and  the  vast  amount  of  i)l;iin  water  that 
we  make  way  with. 

After  breakfast  we,  of  course,  take  up  our  morning  })aper, 
and  here  it  is,  damp  from  the  press.  I  must  say,  that  to  my 
somewhat  vitiated  taste,  perhaps,  some  of  these  daily  papei-s 
seem  extremely  dull,  but  I  am  inclined  to  charge  this  im- 
pression to  two  facts.  In  the  first  place,  they  contain  almost 
no  American  news,  unless,  possibly,  John  L.  Sullivan,  or 
some  such  slugger,  happens  to  have  received  an  unmerciful 
pounding  (in  which  result  we  all  devoutly  rej(oice).  In  the 
second  place,  a  strar  "-er  never  knows  where  to  look  for  what 
he  wants  in  an  unaccustomed  newspaper,  so,  though  it  may 
contain  many  morsels  which  he  would  be  glad  to  read,  he  is 
apt  to  throw  it  aside  impatientl}'^  with  the  reflection  that  it 
is  (lull  and  stupid. 

But  if  this  charge  can  be  preferred  with  some  force, 
there  is  something  far  worse  than  dullness,  and  that  is  the. 
outrageous  sensationalism  Avhich  disgraces  many  of  our  own 
papers.     These  papers  are  at  least  dignified,  and,  for  the 
most  part,  high  in  their  moral  tone.     Some  of  the  afternoon 


I 


93 


DULL  BUT  DIGNIFIED. 


U        I 


■;ii,  ii   v. 


m 

li 

if:  : 


journals,  to  be  sure,  are  imitating  a  bad  American  example, 
iind  deal  in  "  scare  heads  "  and  "  penny-dreadful "  stories, 
but  the  leading  papers  are  all  comparatively  clean,  if  not 
aggressively  on  the  side  of  religion  and  morals. 

The  Melbourne  papers  pay  exceedingly  little  attention  to 
religious  matters,  and  seem  to  ape  the  "  London  Times  "  in 
the  silent  contempt  that  they  visit  upon  anything  or  any- 
body that  is  not  patronized  by  an  earl  or  a  lord  at  the  very 
l^ast.  Their  snobbishness  is  often  spoken  of  by  the  people 
of  Melbourne  themselves,  and  it  is  not  shared,  I  am  glad  to 
say,  to  any  extent  by  the  leading  papers  of  Adelaide  or  Syd- 
ney. These  are  quite  as  good  as  newspapers,  and  far  better 
as  moral  agencies  in  supporting  and  advancing  the  great 
religious  movements  of  the  day. 

In  addition  to  the  column  of  uirtlis,  marriages,  and 
deaths,  a  "  memorial "  column  is  published  in  many  of  the 
papers,  and  anybody  can  get  his  funereal  lucubrations  pub- 
lished at  so  much  a  line.  I  do  not  know  but  this  is  wise 
forethought  on  the  part  of  the  newspaper  publishers.  If 
their  subscribers  Avork  off  their  poetic  afflatus  in  some  dog- 
gerel verses  concerning  a  deceased  relative,  they  are  not  so 
likely  to  deluge  the  editorial  sanctum  with  poems  on 
"  Spring,"  "  Love,"  and  such  threadbare  subjects.  I  think 
.some  publisher  could  make  his  fortune  by  collecting  the 
choicest  of  these  verses  under  the  title,  "  Funereal  Poetry 
AS  She  is  Composed."  Here  is  one  that  I  have  found,  and  it 
is  quite  equal  to  the  average,  neither  better  nor  worse.  I 
commend  the  use  of  the  verb  in  the  last  line  to  all  our  bud- 
ding poets. 

"  Farewell,  Mother  ;  we  did  not  know  tliy  worth, 
But  thou  art  gone,  and  now  'tis  prized, 
Thus  angels  walked  unknown  on  earth, 
But  when  they  flew  were  recognized." 


!i 


OUTDOOR   LIFE. 


98 


Anotlier  one,  for  which  a  friend  of  mine  vouches,  read  as 
follows : 

"  I  heard  that  my  Mother  had  met  with  a  sprain, 
I  left  Ikllarat  by  the  4.50  train, 
At  Melbourne  a  cab  took  me  quick  to  her  side, 
But  when  I  got  there,  alas,  she  had  died  ! " 

My  friend  suggests  that  no  wonder  the  good  lady  tleparted 
this  life  before  the  arrival  of  a  daughter  who  could  perpe- 
trate such  verse. 

After  the  breakfast  and  the  paper  have  been  disposed  of, 
we  will  go  out  to  see  something  of  the  national  life,  for 
there  is  a  vast  amount  of  outdoor  life  in  Australia ;  too 
much,  I  am  told  by  those  who  know  it  best,  for  the  young 
men  and  women,  in  consequence,  often  spend  too  little  time 
at  home.  The  line  climate  makes  verv  much  of  outdoor  life 
possible  and  delightful ;  and  athletic  sports  have  been 
carried  to  an  extent  that  is  not  known  in  America  or  in 
England.  This  devotion  to  athleticism  will,  doubtless,  pro- 
duce a  line  race  of  men  physically.  May  this  development 
not  be  gained  at  the  expense  of  moral  qualities  which  are 
vastly  more  important. 

As  baseball  is  the  national  game  in  America,  so  football 
is  tlie  great  national  game  of  Australia.  To  be  sure,  cricket 
is  ])layed  and  famous  elevens  have  beaten  the  best  English 
cricketers.  Australian  oarsmen  are  renowned  throughout 
the  world,  but  football  is  the  national  gamej^ar  excellence. 

The  betting  on  these  games,  and  especially  the  gambling 
oil  the  horse  races,  are  the  worst  features  of  outdoor  life  in 
Australia.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  never  saw  the  gambling 
spirit  so  rampant,  even  in  England  itself,  as  it  is  here.  It 
certainly  has  not  taken  hold  of  the  better  classes  in  America 
as  here.  In  some  quarters  there  seems  to  be  very  little 
conscience  about  the  matter.     The  races  are  patronized  by 


1 

,  ; 

: 

■ 

I 

III 


IP  '' 


ill' 


lit 


94 


THE   CURSE  OF  AUSTRALIAN    YOUTH. 


the  governor-generals  and  tlie  leading  men  in  political  life, 
and  the  protests  which  are  raised  by  Christian  people  are 
sneered  at  by  many  of  the  papers  as  the  feeble  attempt  of 
"  sniveling  parsons."  A  premier  of  one  of  the  leading  col- 
onies, himself  not  averse,  as  I  found  upon  the  steamer,  to  a 
chance  in  the  "  Calcutta  Sweep,"  assures  me  that  the  spirit 
of  gambling  is  the  awful  and  growing  curse  of  Australian 
youth.  This  testimony,  certainly,  is  not  from  an  unduly 
prejudiced  source. 

Not  only  do  the  wealthy  classes  and  the  bookmakers  bet, 
but  the  clerks  and  schoolboys  and  the  ragged  little  boot- 
blacks themselves  invest  a  shilling  in  the  sweep.  Immense 
prizes,  sometimes  as  high  as  $50,000  each,  tempt  the  cupidity 
of  rich  and  poor  alike.  In  fact,  these  horse-races  are  simply 
huge  Louisiana  lotteries  legalized,  and  established  in  all  the 
colonies,  which  must  debauch  the  youth  by  the  wholesale  if 
they  are  allowed  longer  to  exist. 

I  have  seen  a  sign  over  a  very  respectable  looking  house 
in  Melbourne  which  read  "Turf  Adviser."  It  was  not,  as 
the  uninitiated  might  suppose,  a  landscape  gardener's  office, 
or  the  establishment  of  one  who  gave  instruction  in  regard 
to  a  model  lawn,  but  of  one  Avho  professed  to  have  some 
special  knowledge  in  regard  to  the  races,  and  gave  the 
unwary  a  supposed  "tip"  as  to  the  winning  horse.  Such 
establishments,  under  one  name  or  another,  are  very  com- 
mon, and  even  in  times  of  depression  and  suffering  the  horse 
races  and  the  bookmakers  are  the  last  to  feel  the  pinch. 
Every  little  town  has  its  own  races  and  its  own  betting 
establishments,  and  the  w^ork  of  the  DaAl  goes  on  in  hun- 
dreds of  different  places  at  the  same  time. 

A  very  long  Australian  word,  and  one  which  for 
some  time  I  could  not  understand  the  meaning  of,  is  "total- 
isator."     The  papers  are  full  of  arguments  for  and  against 


VKJOROUS   LIFE   IN   THE  CHURCHES. 


06 


the  "  totjilisator."  The  ministers  denounce  it  from  the 
pulpits,  and  the  religious  ])ress  score  it  in  their  columns,  for 
it  is  sim})ly  Ji  legalization  of  gambling,  in  which  the  govern- 
ment steps  in  and  guarantees  fair  play  ;  that  is,  if  there  can 
be  such  a  thing  as  "fair  play"  in  gambling.  At  least  tiie 
government  guarantees  that  professional  sharpers  shall  not 
"fleece"  the  immature  little  gamblers,  but  that  they  shall 
have  an  equal  chance  at  the  unrighteous  winnings  f)f  the 
lottery. 

But  it  is  pleasant  to  turn  from  the  L'orse  race  and  the 
gambling  hell  to  the  church ;  and  to  record  that  the  church 
life  of  Australia  seems  to  me  vigorous,  genuine,  and  aggres- 
sive. Nowhere  are  earnest  Christians  more  numerous ;  no- 
where are  the  churches  better  managed  or  more  liberally 
sustained.  Some  of  the  metropolitan  churches  are  immense 
establishments,  with  lecture  rooms  and  class  rooms,  large 
libraries  and  parlors,  and  offices  for  all  kinds  of  religious 
and  benevolent  enterprises.  Some  of  them  are  practically 
theological  seminaries  as  well,  where  the  minister  of  the 
church,  with  some  assistance  perhaps  from  brother  ministers, 
instructs  young  men  for  their  future  work. 

Tiie  singing  for  the  most  part  is  magnificent.  No  thin 
warbling;  no  operatic  airs;  no  display  of  organist  and 
choir,  such  as  is  sometimes  so  painful  in  churches  on  our 
own  side  of  the  Pacific  ocean;  but  hearty,  Avhole-souled, 
devotional,  congregational  singing  obtains  everywhere. 

The  ministers,  for  the  most  part,  are  well-educated  and 
able  men,  eloquent  in  defense  of  the  truth,  and  outspoken 
for  all  righteousness.  Especially  in  connection  with  the 
conventions  for  the  Society  of  Christian  Endeavor,  which 
it  was  my  happy  ])rivilege  to  attend  during  almost  every 
(lay  of  my  stay  in  Australia,  was  this  devotional  spirit  most 
deliglitfully  prominent.     Never  have   I    seen  greater  en- 


96 


A  BRIGHT  OUTLOOK. 


thusiasin  or  nioro  intelligent  l)iety ;  or  greater  throngs,  con- 
sidering the  population  to  be  drawn  upon,  or  a  more  intense 
interest  in  the  practical  phases  of  religious  life.  And  among 
all  the  hap})V  weeks  of  my  life  I  count  those  spent  at  the 
Australian  Christian  Endeavor  Convention  among  the 
brightest  and  best. 

I  need  not  here  repeat  the  story  of  these  delightful  gath- 
erings, which,  in  fact,  occupied  all  my  time  when  in  this 
land.  AVith  strong  religious  fervor  and  outspoken  devo- 
tion ;  with  the  vast  material  resources  of  the  new  continent 
to  draw  upon ;  with  the  sturdy  British  character  forming 
the  basis  of  the  population,  I  cannot  help  feeling  that  the 
outlook  for  this  fair  land  materially,  morally,  and  spiritually 
is  as  bright  as  for  any  country  on  all  the  face  of  the  earth. 

There  is  no  spot  on  earth  Avliere  democracy  is  more  ram- 
pant than  in  Australia.  With  all  the  talk  about  "home" 
{i.  e.  England)  and  all  the  sentimental  love  for  the  mother 
country,  a  very  sturdy  independence  is  cultivated,  and  a 
kind  of  individualism  which  is  said  by  those  who  know  best 
to  tend  to  irreverence  and  disregard  for  authority.  Young 
Australia  is  complained  of  by  old  Australia  for  its  precocity 
and  unpleasant  development  of  beardless  mannishness,  just  as 
young  America  is  often  twitted  with  the  same  fault  by  its 
elders.  But  I  must  say  I  have  seen  little  of  this  priggish- 
ness  among  young  Australians,  and  I  have  met  many  of 
them,  and,  as  for  young  America,  I  think  it  has  often  been 
sadly  maligned  in  this  same  way. 

For  the  secret  ballot  we  have  to  thank  Australia,  for  a 
simpler  way  of  registering  our  deeds,  which  it  is  hoped  will 
soon  be  universally  adopted,  and  for  other  improvements  in 
municipal  and  civil  government  which  naturally  have  origin- 
ated with  this  fresh  and  independent  people. 

On  the  other  hand,  Australia  has  adopted  many  Ameri- 


UNFAIR   REPRESENTATIONS. 


or 


can  ideas,  and  is  very  ready  to  credit  every  new  invention 
and  bright  idea  as  a  "  Yankee  notion,"  in  wliatever  corner  of 
the  world  it  may  have  originatetl.  But  there  are  still  many 
niisund(;rstandings  to  be  corrected  and  many  prejudices  to 
be  overcome. 

There  is  a  great  need  of  a  better  understanding  between 
these  two  English-speaking  nations  on  both  sides  of  the 
Pacific  ocean.  They  have  far  more  in  common  than  most 
])eople  believe.  To  understand  these  common  character- 
istics, one  must  be  in  sym})athetic  relations  to  each.  Tlie 
newspapers  on  either  side  of  the  ocean  seem  to  do  tlieir  best 
U)  give  a  distorted  and  unworthy  ])icture  of  life,  both  in 
Australia  and  America.  In  our  American  papers  how  little 
do  we  see  of  real  imj)ortanco  concerning  the  Australian 
colonies  ?  In  the  Austi'alian,  one  may  search  the  cable  mes- 
sages for  weeks  for  information  concerning  America  and 
find  little  besides  accounts  of  horrid  murders,  desperate 
suicides,  and  brutal  prize  fights,  with  here  and  there  a  dis- 
torted political  item  miscalled  "  news." 

It  has  been  gravely  said  to  me  by  a  young  Australian, 
with  an  air  of  knowing  it  all,  that  no  decent  num  went  into 
politics  in  America.  lie  had  full  means  of  knowing  what 
iu!  was  talking  about,  he  said,  and  he  was  assured  that  no- 
body but  scoundrels  and  "  scalliwags  "  ever  ran  for  a  politi- 
cal office  in  the  States.  As  I  thougiit  of  our  Christian  gov- 
ernors and  congressmen,  senators  and  representatives  Avliora 
I  know  are  devout  men  and  supporters  of  their  churches,  I 
could  onlv  smile  at  his  i ignorant  conceit. 

And  yet  this  young  man  doubtless  represents  many 
whose  views  of  American  life  have  been  altogether  gained 
through  the  opaque  and  distorting  medium  of  the  submarine 
cable.  One  of  the  American  consuls  in  Australia  told  me 
that  he  was  convinced  that  news  was  willfully  distorted  by 


;    ^^i 


It     .         .    Fl 


til- 


<L  m 


n 


1   'r 


i : 


98 


ABSURDITIES   OF   MISINFORMATION. 


cable  managers  in  Great  Hritain  for  political  effect,  to  lead 
the  colonists  to  think  that  America  is  inhabited  chiefly  by 
cut-throats  and  assassins.  This  I  cannot  believe,  however, 
though  the  kind  of  news  that  is  most  often  cabled  gives 
some  color  to  the  suj)j)osition. 

This  same  consul  told  me  that  on  one  occasion  he  saw  a 
cable  dispatch  saying  "  that  the  Mexican  Garcia  and  the 
black  rascal  Ormond,  with  a  band  of  followers,  had  invaded 
Missouri,  and  had  captured  and  sacked  the  town  of  In- 
dependence." lie  could  not  believe  that  this  was  true,  since 
the  town  in  (piestion  was  more  than  one  thousand  miles 
from  the  Mexican  border  and  the  bandits  would  have  to  go 
through  a  thickly  settled  region  to  reach  it.  However,  he 
had  no  means  of  disproving  the  assertion,  but  a  few  days 
after  came  the  news  that  the  telegraphic  cipher  had  been 
misinterpreted,  and  that  it  should  have  been  interpreted  to 
mean  that  a  certain  liorse  owned  by  the  Duke  of  Westmin- 
ster and  the  black  filly  Ormond,  had  captured  all  the  sweep- 
stakes at  a  certain  race  in  England.  I  do  not  suppose  that 
the  cable  dispatches  are  often  quite  so  absurdly  mistrans- 
lated as  in  this  case,  but  it  would  be  strange  if  there  were 
not  numberless  mistakes. 

I  remember  searching  all  througli  the  London  Times  on 
one  occasion,  for  news  from  my  own  country,  and  the  only 
bit  of  information  I  could  find  was  to  the  effect  that  a  man 
had  been  arrested  on  the  streets  of  Boston  for  kissing  his 
wife  ill  public.  This  absurd  canard,  the  invention  of  an  idle 
reporter,  was  accepted  by  "  The  Thunderer''''  as  a  solemn 
truth,  and  constituted  the  sole  allowance  of  American  news 
for  that  day. 

Said  a  young  man  to  me,  "  I  understand  that  all  Amei-i 
can  girls  are  given  to  chewing  gum,  and  that  they  go  around 
spitting  upon  the  streets  promiscuously."     He  could  hardl\^ 


HIS   IDEAS   OF   AMKKICAX   (ilKLS.  99 

be  convinced  when  I  told  him  that  no  Anicricun  young  lady 
I  had  ever  seen  was  guilty  of  the  latter  heinous  otFenso 
against  good  nuinners.  lie  had  probably  seen  some  joke  in 
an  American  paper  about  girls  chewing  gum,  and  I  8U[)pose 
that,  from  the  same  veracious  source  of  information,  he 
would  make  up  his  mind  that  the  Chicago  young  ladies  all 
wear  No.  14  boots ;  and  that  every  Boston  gii'l  is  a  spinster 
in  spectacles,  with  a  Greek  lexicon  under  one  arm  and  a 
Latin  dictionary  under  the  other.  Very  likely  the  views 
which  our  papere  give  of  Australian  life,  whenever  they 
take  the  pains  to  give  any  (which  I  fear  is  not  very  often), 
are  equally  distorted  and  fragmentary ;  and  if  this  chapter, 
in  regard  to  the  little  things  in  Australian  life  and  customs 
and  manners,  shall  serve  to  introduce  to  any  of  my  Ameri- 
can friends  the  country  which  I  have  come  so  highly  to 
honor  and  respect,  1  shall  be  exceedingly  glad. 


aS" 


^^ 


U' 


CIIArTER  V. 

AUSTRALIA  TIIIIOUGH   AMERICAN   EYES. 

Au  Early  Definition  —  A  "  Personally  Conducted  "  Trip  —  A  Peaceful  Land 

—  One  of  its  Nci^diborH —  Australia's  Only  Battle  —  The  Eureka  Stock 
ado  —  Unwarlike  Weapons — Hot,  Hotter,  Hottest  —  Summer  the  Pre- 
vailing Season  —  Ragged  and  Tattered  Trees  —  A  Eucalyptus  Country 

—  Many  "Botany  Bays" — Imported  Pests  —  A  Pugnacious  Little 
Briton  —  One  of  Australia's  Expensive  Problems  —  The  Gentle,  Peace- 
loving  Bear  —  The  Kangaroo  and  the  Emu  —  The  Kangaroo's  Small 
Brotlicr  —  The  Laughing  Jackass  — A  Land  of  Cities— Tales  of  Politi 
cal  Corruption  —  An  Exploded  Boom  —  Melbourne  the  Magnificent  — 
Sydney  the  Pictures(|ue  —  Adelaide  the  Lovely  —  Ballarat  the  Golden 

—  Down  in  a  Gold  .Mine  —  Getting  Ready  to  Descend  —  In  Motley 
Array  —  The  Cage  —  Brave  Women  —  United  We  Drop  —  Suppose  !  — 
Everything  but  Gold-  A  Bruve  Miner  —  Risking  Life  for  a  Friend  — 
That  Man  was  a  Christian. 


!| 


!  i  I 


STORY  is  current  liere  in  Aus- 
tralia that  an  American  geogra- 
pliv  was  on(?b^  published  wliich 
contained  this  extraordinary  piece 
of  information  concerning  this 
vast  continent.  "Australia  is  a 
place  to  wliich  England  sent  her 
convicts,  some  of  whom  have  been 
converted  and  have  become  her 
leatling  citizens."  It  was  in  this 
same  geography,  doubtless,  that 
England  was  described  as  a 
"  small  island  off  the  coast  of  France." 

Absurd  as  such  a  description  seems  after  one  has  visited 
these  colonies  with  their  thriving  cities  and  bustling,  cosmo- 
politan, modern  life,  which,  for  energy  and  vigor,  is  not 

(100) 


A  COUNTKY    LITThK    KNOWN  TO   US. 


101 


surpassed  anywliero  in  tho  world,  it  is  typical  of  a  vast  deal 
of  inisitiforiiiation  that  pivvails  on  both  sides  of  the  I'aciflu 
(({•can  coiicernin/;^  the  ^rtnit  countrif:  on  the  opposite  shores. 
Kar  too  little  of  Australia  is  known  in  America,  far  too 
litth;  of  America  is  known  in  Austi'aiia.  These  two  peoples 
of  a  common  stock,  a  common  lanj^iia^e,  and  a  common 
destiny,  should  know  each  other  as  they  have  not  as  yet 
hcj^run  to  know  each  other;  and  if  these  notes  of  a  traveler 
in  Australia  shall  do  anythin;^  toward  introducing  these  two 
l)i'anches  of  the  English-si)eaking  race  to  each  other,  tho 
author  will  feel  (as  autlujrs  are  accustomed  to  say  in  pre- 
faces) that  "'his  work  has  not  been  altogether  in  vain." 

The  area  of  Australia  is  almost  exactly  the  same  as  of 
the  United  States,  exclusive  of  Alaska,  and  about  three- 
(|iiarters  as  large  as  Europe,  lint  do  not  be  alarmed,  dear 
reader,  for  I  am  not  going  into  weary  particulars,  historical, 
geographical,  biographical,  or  ethnological.  I  am  only 
going  to  tell  you  of  those  things  which  impress  a  traveler  in 
a  journey  through  this  new  land ;  in  fact,  to  take  you  with 
nie  on  a  personally  conducted  trip.  You  remember  how  this 
great  island  looks  upon  the  map.  It  is  roughly  heart- 
shaped,  but  across  the  breadth  of  this  heart  is  a  journey  of 
2,;3UO  miles,  while  from  the  top  to  the  bottom  in  its  very 
narrowest  length  it  is  over  1,OOU  miles. 

It  is  not  a  country  of  vast  and  stupendous  mountains,  or 
ini<ditv  rivers,  or  belching  volcanoes.  It  is  eminentlv  a 
jioaceful,  quiet,  pastoral  country.  It  has,  to  be  sure,  some 
tine  mountains,  and  one  or  two  large  rivers,  and  some  mag- 
nificent scenery,  but  there  is  more  scenery  which  a  tourist 
would  seek  in  a  single  canton  in  Switzerland  than  in  this 
whole  continent  of  the  southern  seas. 

However,  if  Australia  is  not  a  Switzerland,  it  has  a 
iSwitzerland  at  its  doors,  for  one  of  the  Australasian  colonies, 


102 


A   IVIDK   DOOHWAY. 


'.il. 


A^, 


New  Z(!al;m(l,  cum  houst  of  as  iiiii^^'iiilict'iit  iiiniiiitaiiis  and 
glaciers,  lakes  and  wutcrl'alls  as  S\vit/,(M'laii(l,  uikI  procipiccis 
and  fionls  liU(;  tliose  of  Norway.  I  liav(^  said  tliat  tliis  Aus- 
tralasian Switzerland  was  at  tli(^  «loors  of  Austi-alia,  and  y<'t 
it  is  a  ^'ood  wide  doorway;  I'oj'  l,2t>()  miles  of  stoi'iny  ocean 
rolls  hetween  tlies(^  islands.  However,  tliis  is  a  country  of 
ina;^iiilicent  distances  and  as  New  Zealand  is  tli(!  largest 
nei<^'ld)oi'  of  Australia  we  may  he  pardoned  I'or  tliiid<inn- 
of  liei'  as  a  near  neighbor. 

As  is  becominjL!;- a  peaceful,  |iastoi'al  country,  the  liistoi'y 
of  tliis  land  since  civilized  num  lii'st  came  here  to  ahid(^  is 
far  from  warlike.  In  fact  tliei-e  is  no  nation  on  the  fact;  of 
the  earth  whoso  history  has  heen  so  little  stain<'d  with  blood 
as  this  land.  I  visited  the  only  hattle-eVoimd  on  Australian 
shor(?s,  the  Kureka,  Stockade,  so  calle<l,  near  l»allarat.  This 
battle-ground  is  iu)t  a  Watei'hjo  oi-  a  (Jettysburf^',  by  any 
means.  It  is  simply  tin!  scene  of  a  brisk  skii-mish  betwtMMi 
some  I'iotous  mint^rs  and  the  authorities,  wlii(;h  n^sulted  in 
f(;)v  fatalities  on  eithiM'  side.  Nevertheless  an  hei'oic  iiumu 
m(!nt  marks  the  spot,  and  some  unwarlike  cannon,  which 
])robably  could  not  be  fired,  show  tlieii'  muzzles  from  the 
historic  hillock.  Except  for  this  brief  skirmish  the  history 
of  the  country  has  been  absolutely  bloodless.  The  Austra- 
lians have  no  one  to  ti<^'ht  and  no  one  to  fear.  No  nation 
would  think  of  sendin<^-  an  ai'med  force  to  these  shores,  and 
even  if  sent  it  would  be  route<l  in  even  (juicker  time  than  the 
Hessians  who  were  sent  to  contjuer  tiie  American  colonies  a 
century  a<j;'o. 

What  is  the  climate  of  this  country,  do  you  ask,  my  cui'i- 
ous  reader?  Well,  you  mi<^'ht  as  well  ask,  "AVhat  is  tlu; 
climate  of  the  United  States."  You  will  have  to  come  down 
to  ])articulars,  and  we  shall  ask  you  whether  you  desire  to 
know  about  the  temperature  of  Texas  or  of  North  Dakota,  of 


■;!. 


.r 


TALL  AND  TATTEKED  TKEES. 


103 


Florida  or  of  Miiinc.  Tlore,  too,  thoro  jiro  all  climates  and 
Jill  toiiipcnituiTs.  South  Austi'alia  is  hot,  Now  South  Wales 
is  hot  fci',  (Queensland  is  hottest.  Victoi'ia  has  a  more;  teiii- 
pci'ate  cliniato  and  so  has  Tasnianiii,  wliih^  souk;  pai'ts  of  the 
mountainous  re«^ion  of  New  Zeahind  nm  Aretie  in  their 
icinperatui'e. 

l!ul  laU(i  Australia  thi'oui;iiout,  wo  may  say  that  it  is  a 
suiiiiiei'  elime  aiui  far  moi'e  sumnun'-lilve  than  the  saim;  area 
of  liahilahle  North  Amei'iea.  Summer  is  liei"(^  tlu^  pi'evail- 
iii"'  season,  and  when  it  is  not  summer  tinu;  it  is  either  hito 
ill  tlu^  spi'in^'  or  early  in  tiu;  fall. 

Tiu!  ve^^etation  of  Australia  seems  to  a  stranfjjer  to  ho 
rat licr  meagre  and  monotonous;  not  that  anythin*^- will  not 
•iTow  whieh  is  planted  and  well  watered,  hut  indi<^'enous 
trees  arii  lai';.;'ely  of  tlie  eucalyptus  class,  and  though  some 
of  these  arc  tiie  tallest  trees  in  th<^  world,  and  ma^nillccnt 
specimens  of  tr(;ehood,  yet,  foi*  the  most  ])art,  they  ai'o 
scrawny  and  scra^<^y,  and  as  they  shed  tluiir  hark,  they 
have  a  peculiarly  ragyed  and  uid<emj)t  look,  like  street 
j^^aniins  whose  clothes  are  hanginj^  in  tatters  from  their 
liiiihs.  The  hotanists  tell  us  that  theiu^  arc^  1.^)0  dilferent 
kinds  of  eucaly[)tus  trees,  most  of  which  helony  to  Australia 
aloiii'. 

liiit,  after  all,  tlieso  are  splendid  trees  for  the  country, 
and  are,  like  most  other  inventions  of  Mother  Nature,  exactly 
adapted  for  the  woi'k  which  they  have  to  do.  Tliey  have 
vciy  hjfno-  taj)  I'oots,  which  suck  up  the  moistui'«;  from  a 
^I'cat  de|)th,  and  their  tough,  leathery  leaves  lit  them  pecu* 
liaily  for  tlu;  dry  climate.  Hut  though  th(!  eucaly])tus  is 
more  largely  representiul  in  the  njitive  forest  than  any  other 
tree,  yet  it  is  not  fair  to  say  that  the  vegetation  as  a  whole 
is  of  a  dull,  lifeless,  and  uninteresting  character. 

Nowhere  have  I  seen  sucli  gorgeous  flowers ;  no  land  can 


% 
■  ivM 

I 


:^ 


!  i^ 


■t\l 


: 

'4m 

i 

, 

i:  ■  ■  ■ 

:  j 

1 

104 


BRILLIANT   FLOWERING   PLANTS. 


boast  more  ]na<^nilicent  gardens.  Nature,  seeming  desirous 
of  compensating  tlie  country  for  the  usual  lack  of  variety  in 
deciduous  trees,  has  fully  made  up  for  this  loss  in  the  shrubs 
and  flowering  plants  with  which  she  has  so  plentifully  car- 
peted the  earth,  especially  during  the  s})ring  months,  Avlien 
sufficient  moisture  makes  the  blossoms  possible.     "Botany 


ABORIGINAL   AI'STRALIAN. 


Bay"  may  be  found  in  man}'^  places  along  the  shores  of 
Australia.  The  Wasatah  is  a  most  brilliant,  showy,  red 
flower  Avhich  grows  on  a  tall  spike,  while  another  famous 
native  of  New  South  "Wales  is  the  modest  flannel  flower,  a 
beautiful  relative  of  the  edelweiss  of  Switzerland,  which  it 
much  resembles. 

Many  of  these  brilliant  flowering  plants  are  indigenous 
and  others  have  been  imported,  such  as  the  gorgeous  golden 
gorze,  and  the  equally  golden  cape-weed,  which,  however 
beautiful  it  looks  when  the  sun  shines  upon  it  of  i\  bright 


CAPE-WEED,   SPARROWS,    AND   RABBITS. 


106 


spring  morning,  is  a  pest  as  utterly  detested  by  the  farmers 
as  the  Avhite  weed  in  our  northern  meadows.  I'v  the  wav, 
when  will  people  learn  to  experiment  less  recklessly  with 
the  products  of  other  zones  i  "When  will  we  learn  the  les- 
son, that  for  the  most  part,  the  trees  and  plants  and  birds 
and  insects  which  God  has  settled  in  the  land,  are  best 
adapted  to  that  country,  and  that  we  are  running  great 
risks  when  we  try  to  naturalize  other  citizens  that  are  for- 
eign to  these  climes  ? 

Kot  only  has  the  cape-weed  become  an  unutterable  nui- 
sance, but  the  English  sparrow  is  almost  as  great  a  pest  in 
Australia  as  in  our  own  country.  Why  could  Ave  not  have 
l)een  content  to  have  left  the  chattering,  mischievous,  pug- 
nacious little  bird  at  liome,  instead  of  spreading  his  ravages 
through  two  great  continents.  The  gipsy  moth  seems  to  be 
a  very  harmless  insect  when  you  look  at  him  with  the  dis- 
piissionate  eye  of  a  naturalist,  and  yet  what  havoc  he  has 
made,  and  how  many  thousands  of  dollars  has  his  unfortu- 
iiiite  advent  cost  the  goodly  State  of  Massacliusetts ! 

Could  anything  be  more  harmless  in  a])pearance  than 
the  timid  rabbit,  and  yet  the  introduction  of  a  few  })air  of 
these  "  feeble  folk,"  has  cost  these  colonies  millions  of  pounds, 
and  the  end  is  not  yet.  IIow  to  exterminate  the  pests  the 
colonists  know  not.  They  multiply  faster  than  the  hunter's 
gun  and  the  hunter's  dog  can  extir})ate  them.  A  vast  re- 
ward has  been  offered  to  anyone  who  shall  invent  a  poison 
l)otent  enough  to  rid  the  country  of  them,  but  the  reward 
has  never  been  earned  as  yet.  The  only  way  to  secure 
immunity  from  them  is  to  build  a  "rabbit  fence"  around 
any  particular  field,  sunk  a  foot  or  two  below  the  surface  of 
the  ground  under  which  the  rabbits  will  not  burrow.  But 
to  do  this  on  any  large  scale  is  manifestly  impossible,  and 
the  reward  aforementioned  still  awaits  the  inventive  Pas- 


mm. 


106 


RIDICULOUS  ANIMALS. 


teur  or  Edison,  who  may  discover  the  deadly  rabbit  extermi- 
nator. 

I  have  said  that  the  geological  and  political  history  of 
Australia  have  been  alike  of  a  peaceful  character,  marked 
by  no  great  upheavals  of  nature  or  of  man.  This  gentle 
characteristic  extends  to  the  animal  life  of  Australia  as  well, 
for  there  arc  no  native  animals  of  a  lierce  and  savage  nature, 
no  lions  or  })anthers,  no  wild  cats  or  grizzly  bears.  The 
kangaroo  is  the  typical  animal,  and  the  emu  is  the  typical 
bird,  and  they  are  found  one  on  either  side  of  the  New 
South  Wales  coat  of  arms,  while  both  are  dignified  by  a 
place  on  her  postage  stamps  as  well.  There  is,  to  be  sure,  a 
native  bear,  called  the  koala,  but  it  is  a  mild  and  jieace- 
loving  animal  that  climbs  sluggishly  about  at  night  on  trees, 
in  search  of  fruits  and  seeds. 

The  kangaroo  is  t/ie  typical  Australian  animal,  beyond 
all  others,  and  Avitli  his  snudler  cousin,  the  wallaby,  has 
afforded  me  no  end  of  amusement  as  I  have  seen  them  in 
the  well-kept  zoological  gardens  of  the  country.  With  their 
puny  little  forelegs  Avliich  seem  so  utterly  inadequate  to  the 
occasion,  and  Avhicli  as  often  as  the}'  stand  up  on  their  hind 
legs  droop  down  in  a  helpless,  lackadaisical  way,  they  are 
the  very  pictures  of  innocence  and  helplessness ;  but  I  am 
told  that  a  blow  from  the  hind  leg  of  an  "  old  man"  kanga- 
roo, or  even  a  stroke  of  its  powerful  tail  is  not  to  be  des- 
pised, and  Avhen  angry  and  fearful  for  their  young,  they 
Avill  fight  in  desperate  fashion.  The  most  stupid  animal 
whose  acquaintance  it  was  ever  my  pleasure  to  make,  is  tlie 
wombat,  a  kind  of  dull,  listless  woodchuck,  with  a  most 
uninteresting  countenance,  who  burrows  in  the  ground  like 
his  American  cousin,  but  is  not  nearly  so  vivacious  and 
enterprising.  Among  the  birds  is  a  very  solemn-faced 
creature  called  the  laughing  jackass,  who  looks  as  though  he 


A   STUPID   AND   HAKDONIC   BIRD. 


lor 


had  not  an  idea  in  his  head  or  a  friend  in  the  workl,  as  he 
sits  perched  all  day  imni()val)le  in  liis  hirge  cage  in  the 
gardens.  Bat  I  am  told  that  when  in  his  native  haunts,  he 
is  a  diffeiont  sort  of  a  creature,  and  is  gifted  with  a  loud, 
sardonic  laugh,  which  is  very  startling  as  one  passes  his 
haunts.  For  just  as  the  traveler  has  got  by  his  habitat,  this 
ironical,  chuckling  laugh  bursts  out  as  though  some  demon 
was  rejoicing  over  the  traveler's  i)rogress  to  the  City  of 
J)osti'uction. 

Much  of  the  luiman  life  of  Australia,  aside  from  the 
Al)(jrigines,  is  found  in  the  hirge  cities.  In  fact,  far  too  large 
a  proi)ortion,  as  I  have  already  renuirked,  of  our  Australian 
friends  live  in  the  cities,  and  too  small  a  proportion  for  the 
best  and  truest  ])rosperity  of  the  C(juntry  cultivate  the  f.  AL 
This  fact  is  acknowledged  and  nu^urned  over  by  thoughtful 
Australians  everywhere.  If  Paris  is  Fnince,  much  more  is 
^Melbourne  Victoria,  and  Sydney  is  New  South  Wales,  and 
Adelaide  is  South  Australia,  In  fact,  not  far  from  50  per 
cent,  of  the  people  live  in  cities,  and  nearly  that  percentage 
of  the  whole  p()j)ulation  is  found  in  these  great  leading  cities 
or  their  immediate  environs. 

The  usual  tales  are  told  in  the  ]iai)ers  about  |)olitical  cor- 
ruption and  incompetence  of  premier  and  councilors  and 
members  of  the  Colonial  Parliament.  I  have  learned  to  put 
very  little  confidence  in  these  newspaporial  -wails  about  the 
decadence  of  legislation  and  legislators.  I  have  heard  so 
many  of  them  in  my  own  country  that  I  am  inclined  to  dis- 
count those  t'aat  I  read  in  an\'  other.  Like  the  man  wdio 
was  not  frightened  by  ghosts  because  he  had  seen  so  many 
ot"  them,  I  am  not  greatly  alarmed  when  I  see  the  opposition 
papers  telling  the  country  that  it  is  going  to  rack  and  ruin 
as  fast  as  the  other  party  can  carry  it. 

However,  there  have  doubtless  been  some  sad  revelations 


I,  .      r  I 


\    V 

> 

1^ 

1 

1 

i  ! 

i 

} 
k 

|; 

I 


I 


J 


108 


AN  INDOMITABLE   PEOPLE. 


of  liito  ill  i)<)litic'al  life,  iind  Victoria  cspooiiiUy  is  suffering 
terribly  i'rom  an  exj)l()(le(l  "hooni."  Throe  years  since,  so 
the  Victorians  tell  mo.  it  was  su|)j)o.so(l  that  the  golden  gates 
of  prosjjority  were  wide  open  for  all  the  colonies,  and  would 
never  bo  closed,  and  that  all  that  any  one  had  to  do  was  to 
enter  in  anil  help  himself  to  as  many  millions  as  he  was 
smart  enough  to  grab.  Ileal  estate  Avent  u^jf  to  a  fabulous 
price,  wildcat  schemes  were  entered  into  with  a  recklessness 
worthy  of  South  Sea  ]»ubl)le  years.     I\[any  men  in  each 

V  t  ft' 

large  city  were  suj)posod  to  bo  veritable  descendants  of 
Croesus  and  whatever  they  touched,  it  was  thought,  would 
turn  to  shining  gold,  liut  the  inevitable  crash  came  which 
always  follows  an  extravagant  hoom,  and  for  the  last  two 
years  A^'ictoria  and  Now  South  Wales,  especially  the  former, 
have  been  suffering  sadly  from  the  cc^llapso. 

Ilow^ever,  this  depression  must  bo  merely  temporary. 
With  the  magnificent  country  to  be  developed  behind  the 
large  cities,  with  aii  indomitable  ]ieople,  and  English  pluck 
and  perseverance  to  Avork  upon,  there  is  no  doubt  concern- 
ing the  future  history  of  these  colonies.  As  it  is.  they 
have  made  marvelous  j^rogross  during-  the  last  forty  years, 
for  it  is  only  since  ffold  was  discovered  in  1851  that  the 
great  future  of  Australia  has  boon  assured.  AVithin  that 
time  Melbourne  has  grown  from  an  insignificant  village 
to  a  vast  and  beautiful  city.  The  word  '"magnificent"  is 
scarcely  too  large  a  word  to  be  used  in  describing  this  me- 
tro])olis.  Some  of  its  streets  are  equal  to  the  best  that  can 
be  found  in  l^aris  or  London,  Kew  York  or  Philadelphia, 
and,  take  it  throughout,  it  has  a  cleaner,  fresher,  and  more 
wholesome  ap])oaranco  than  either  of  those  cities.  Its  public 
buildings  are  massive  and  imposing,  its  stores  are  s]">acious,  and 
much  of  the  architecture  of  its  principal  thoroughfare,  Col- 
lins street,  can  scarcely  be  matched  elsewhere  in  the  world. 


i^ 


M'- 


A  CITY  OP  HOMES. 


1(>!» 


S\ilnoy  is  not  so  \v(!ll  laid  out  iis  ^[ell)oin'n(\  for,  liko 
Topsy,  it  "just  <^ro\ve'r'  instead  of  bcin*^  ])lanno(l  caivfully 
hy  arcliitects  and  surveyors;  but  it  is  ii  nioro  picturos(|Uo 
city  by  reason  of  its  irref^ularity,  and  in  most  respects  fully 
as  interesting  as  IVfelbourne. 

Adelaide  combines  citv  and  country  in  a  cliarmin'''  wav, 


IN  ONE  OK   MEI,110I'KNK's  PAKKS. 

:ui(l  is  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  a  wide  ])arlv  filled  with 
l)fautiful  trees  and  brilliant  shrubbery.  Beyond  this  ])ark- 
enc'losed  area  are  the  suburban  cities  and  villas,  and  back  of 
all  is  a  lovely  range  of  green  hills  that  encircles  the  city 
most  lovingly  round  about.  Adelaide  seened  to  me  pre- 
cminentlv  a  citv  of  homes,  and  the  religious  influences  are 
.strong  and  abiding. 

Another  remarkable  city  that  I  visited  is  Ballarat,  the 
center  of  the  gold-mining  industries  of  Australia ;   or  at  least 


I     : 


i  -^ 


:i 

1    i 

^ili' 

ll 

ill 

H  - 

1 

lii' 

110 


NOT   A   TYIMCAL   MININ<J   TOWN. 


Olio  of  tho  centers,  for  Bendigo,  which  1  did  not  visit,  is 
equally  famous  in  its  way  as  a  golden  city. 

All  my  preconceived  notions  of  a  mining  town  were 
rudely  destroyed  hy  liallarat,  for,  instead  of  belching  chim- 
neys and  ban-en  hillsides,  bedraggled  streets  and  dirty 
houses,  such  as  I  have  always  associated  in  my  imagination 
with  a  mining  town,  I  found  here  one  of  the  handsomest  of 
modern  cities  with  splendid  streets,  tree-lined  and  statue- 
adornrd  ;  line  ])ul)lic  buildings  and  business  blocks,  and  a 
charming  i'esi<lential  (juarter  where  some  of  the  most  reiined 
and  hosj)ital)le  ])eople  on  the  face  of  the  earth  have  their 
homes.  But  des))itc  these  delightful  surroundings,  one  sees 
at  a  glance  that  liallarat  is  a  city  of  mines.  Huge  heaps  of 
yellow  earth,  almost  mountainous  in  their  size,  sui'round  the 
city  in  every  direction,  and  these  show  where  the  mines 
have  been  and  in  many  cases  still  are  worked.  From  some 
of  these  fabulous  sums  of  gold  have  been  extracted,  and  the 
sup})ly  seems  ])ractically  inexhaustible,  for,  however  far  the 
miners  have  gone,  they  have  not  found  the  end  of  the  gold- 
bearing  quartz. 

Let  us  go  (hnvn  togetlier,  dear  reader,  into  this  dark  hole 
in  the  ground,  for  we  will  never  have  a  better  opportunity 
to  see  a  gold  mine.  As  we  go  into  the  oltice  of  the  com- 
pany to  don  our  underground  costumes,  Ave  see  a  great  pile 
of  ap])arent  golden  ingots, —  ])laster  representations  of  the 
gold  that  has  been  taken  out  of  this  mine  during  the  last 
three  or  four  yeai's.  These  bars  are  piled  up  under  a  glass 
case,  and  represent  hundreds  of  thousands  of  dollars'  worth 
of  yellow  metal  which  has  come  out  of  this  one  hole  in  the 
ground. 

Ikit  Ave  Avill  not  linger  on  the  surface,  for  here  are  the 
clothes  that  Ave  are  to  jmt  on,  a  motley  anay'Df  all  sorts 
and  sizes  :    battered  hats,  ragged  coats,  trousers  that  reach 


IN    PICTUKESyUE   KACJS. 


Ill 


only  liiilf  ^vay  belou'  tlu;  knee,  und  1kk>is  li(>|)('l('ssly  run 
down  at  tl'O  heels ;  but  no  mutter,  lor  wo  arc  not  g'oiug"  into 
polite  society  for  the  next  few  hours. 

So  i)icturos(iue,  however,  is  our  ri;^,  that  wo  j)auso  to  have 
our  photographs  taken  before  descending  into  the  bowels  of 
Mother  Earth.  Then  wo  find  the  entrance  to  tho  mine  and 
the  cage  waiting  to  carry  us  down.     It  is  a  pokerish  looking 


llEADY    KOU   Tilt;   DKSCKXT    INTO    A   GOLD   MINK. 

liolc,  indeed,  and  requires  some  little  nerve  on  the  part  of 
the  ladies  of  our  party.  But  I  have  always  noticed  that  a 
i-ciiuine  Avonian,  though  she  may  run  from  a  snake,  and  ))os- 
sil)le  give  a  little  scream  at  the  sight  of  a  mouse,  always 
braces  up  when  her  genuine  courage  is  required.  And  first 
of  all,  the  ladies  step  u})on  the  platform  of  the  cage  and 
stow  themselves  away  in  the  smallest  ]iossible  compass,  four 
going  down  at  a  time.  A  cord  is  passed  around  them,  tying 
them  all  together,  so  that  not  only  united  they  stand,  but 
united  they  drop  down  into  the  lower  regions  which  yawn 


lii 


112 


DARKNESS   THAT   MAY    HK    FELT. 


bonciitli  tliciii.  Tlio  si<^n{il  is  given  iiml  down  we  po.  It  is 
an  awful  plunge  into  the  depths  of  the  eai-th.  Ligl)t  and 
ho|)e  wo  seem  to  leave  above  us,  and  a  pitchy  bhulvness  that 
may  bo  felt  is  all  that  seems  to  bo  below  us.  However,  we 
have  not  time  for  any  very  long-continued  dismal  rcUcctions, 
for  in  less  than  three  minutes  wo  are  at  the  bottom  of  tho 
shaft,  and  picking  >  ,ir  way  gingerly  over  sharj)  pieces  of 
((uartz,  and  through  pools  of  muddy  wat(!r,  following  oui' 
guide  who  goes  bv^fore  us  with  his  llickei'ing  candle  at 
which  wo  have  all  lighted  our  own  torches. 

If  not  lieroic,  there  is  something  picturesque  and  weird 
in  tho  sight  of  a  file  of  men  and  women  stumbling  along  in 
a  narrow  passage  a  thousand  feet  below^  the  surface,  lighted 
only  by  a  few  gleams  that  serve  to  make  the  darkness  visi- 
ble. Even  the  stoutest  hearted  cannot  hell)  thinking: 
"  Suppose  the  fire  damp  should  explode  !  "  ''  Sup])oso  the 
flood  gate  should  give  way  and  ])our  their  whelming  floods 
of  water  into  this  hole  while  wo  are  here ! "  "  Su])posing 
these  wooden  sup})orts  that  Avail  us  in  should  yield  to  the 
tremendous  pressure  above  them  and  collajise,  who  would 
carry  the  tale  of  the  imprisoned  Yankees  in  a  Ballarat  gold 
mine  i " 

However,  none  of  these  things  occur  or  are  very  likely  to 
occur,  for  the  utmost  precauticm  is  taken,  and  I  imagine  that 
life  is  quite  as  safe  in  this  underground  hole  as  it  is  on 
Broadway  or  Washington  street.  After  stumbling  around 
in  the  different  passages  for  an  hour  or  two,  looking  for 
nuggets  which  never  appear,  and  searching  the  walls  dili- 
gently for  specks  of  gold  which  we  can  never  see,  we  return 
again  to  the  shaft  that  will  take  us  up  to  air  and  sunlight, 
convinced  that  about  tho  only  thing  one  cannot  find  in  a 
gold  mine  is  gold. 

Yet  all  this  innocent-looking  w^hite  quartz  which  seems 


HKAVY    TO   (iKT   AND   I.KiHT   TO    Hol,|). 


li:{ 


to  contain  not  even  a  scintillation  of  tliu  vcllow  metal,  is 
cliargod  with  it,  and  wlu-n  it  is  crushed,  Hooded  with  water, 
and  strained  through  hlankets,  and  treated  with  (luicksilvor' 
wliosi!  deft  fin;^ers  j)iclv  out  every  little  paj'ticU'  of  tli«'  pre- 
cious ore,  it  is  found  to  be  exti'enielv  rich  in  that  connnoditv 
f(ti'  which  so  many  men  are  willing  to  nuUce  slaves  of  them- 
selves all  tiuiir  lives  long. 

The  miniM's  themselves,  however,  get  no  extravagant 
wages;  though  tliey  work  in  gold  and  for  gold,  they  can 
only  (hiily  line  their  pockets  with  about  $2.r)0  worth  of  the 
iiu'tal  for  wliich  they  delve.  So  true  is  it  in  gold  mines  as 
in  every  other  industry,  and  every  other  effort  moral,  sjjirit- 
iial,  and  nuiterial;  "other  men  labor  and  we  are  entered 
into  their  labors." 

"That  man  must  have  been  a  Christian,"  said  our  guide, 
as  we  were  going  up  from  the  bottom  of  the  mine  to  the 


daylight  again. 


"What  man?"  Ave  inquired. 

"AVhy,  the  fellow  that  savetl  his  chum's  life  in  one  of  the 
mines  a  little  while  ago." 

"  Tell  us  all  about  it,"  we  said,  and  before  we  got  up  to 
daylight  we  had  time  to  hear  the  brief  and  graphic  story. 
Two  miners  were  recently  going  up  the  shaft  together  in  a 
1  tucket,  when  one  of  them  accidentally  fell  off.  They  were 
liurrying  uj)  to  get  out  of  tiio  way  of  four  charges  of  rend- 
rock  which  had  been  put  into  tlie  drilled  holes  to  blast  away 
a  })()rtion  ot  the  wall  of  the  mine.  The  fuse  had  been 
lighted,  and  these  men,  scrambling  into  the  bucket,  had 
given  the  signal  to  be  hoisted  up,  Avlien,  as  I  said,  one  of 
tlieni  fell  out.  Quick  as  thought  his  brave  companion  gave 
tlu;  signal  to  lower  the  bucket  again. 

It  had  gone  some  twenty  or  thirty  feet  only,  and  the 
man  who  fell  from  it,  though  stunned  and  bruised,  was  not. 


Iff 
I 


114 


A   HERO   OF  THE   MINE. 


killed.  His  coiiipiinioii  felt  arouiul  in  tln»  uwfiil  (lai-kncss 
for  tlio  t'har<^('s  of  rendrock  in  onlor  to  ])ull  thorn  out  and 
prevent  the  explosion.  lie  found  three  of  them,  hut  tlu? 
fourth  he  could  not  find  in  the  darkness  and  confusion  of  the 
moment.  lie  had  hut  a  few  seconds  to  work  for  the  fuse 
was  l)urnin<;  toward  the  explosive  with  fri<;htful  rapidity. 

Finding  that  ho  could  not  lay  his  hand  upon  the  last 
charge,  he  drctw  his  senseless  companion  into  a  niche  in  the 
rock,  shielded  him  as  far  as  j)ossihle  from  the  Hying  frag- 
ments, and  wait(Ml  tin;  dreadful  moment  of  the  explosion. 
Was  ever  a  man  placed  in  a  [)osition  of  more  awfui  ex- 
pectancy? Did  ever  a  braver  soul  c(mrt  death  for  the  sake 
of  saving  a  fellow-num^  The  fearful  explosicm  came.  The 
mine  was  lilled  with  suffocating  fumes,  the  rocks  flew  in 
every  direction,  l)ut,  strange  to  say,  neither  of  these  men 
were  killed.  They  wei'o  bruised  and  cut,  and  much  shaken 
nervously,  as  can  be  imagined,  but  the  bravo  deliverer  was 
able  to  crawl  to  the  bucket  again  when  the  ex})losion  was 
over  and  to  cari-v  his  woundetl  friend  with  him,  and  both 
were  hoisted  into  God's  suidight  again. 

AVith  all  our  hearts  we  agree  with  our  guide's  remark: 
"That  man  must  have  been  a  Christian! " 


m 


ciiAiTKii  vr. 

THE  CUriSK  OF  TlIK  r///.\V/7'r— AN  INTKHK3TING  VOYAGE 
IN  ST!{AN(}K  COMI'ANV  — IN  TIIK  CJOLD  FIELDS  OF 
Al'STUALIA. 

Hcgimiiiif^  Our  Log-liook  —  Mrs.  IMlgrim's  Resolve  —  The  Cfiiiit/tn  —  A 
Uiiiiiuu  unci  Unusiiiil  Journey  —  Our  Wteainer  —  Oiir  Stewards  — 
•'I.oasl  Hecf,"  "  01aii.:,'c  Flitltls"  and  "Lice  ("aUes" — Preparing  for 
Hot  Weather  —  Our  Fellow  I'usseiigers — Lite  in  the  Steerage  —  Mr. 
Ah  Sec  niid  his  Wives  —  Mrs.  Ah  See  Number  One  —  riH)tograi)hing 
the  Family  — The  Hider  of  the  l{onst— The  Hlack  Fellows  — Ce- 
k'stials  l{etnrning  Home  —  Taking  Home  Their  Own  Hones  —  The 
Chinaman  at  Dinner — A  Race  of  Sciuatters  —  The  Fan-tan  "Layout" 
— Cliinese  I'assion  for  (Jamhling — Within  tlic  Harrier  Reef — "White 
Man,  He  too  Salt"  —  ({littering  (lold  Fields — How  (Jold  was  Diseov- 
ered  in  Australia  —  Nash  and  His  ','  Find" — "  Welcome  Strangers"  — 
(iold  on  Rrogans  —  The  Romance!  of  th(,'  Morgan  Mine  —  A  Visit  from  a 
Native    IJushmau — "Baeky,    Raeky,  ]?ack    " — White    Ant    Hills. 

O  start  fairly  with  our  log-book 
Ave  imist  tell  j'ou  that  tho 
Ch'nKjtK  sails  frotii  Melljourne  to 
Ilong  Kong,  but  tluit  we  did  not 
join  her  until  she  had  plowed  her 
way  for  a  thousand  miles  along 
the  waters  of  the  Australian 
coast,  and  had  reached  Brisbane, 
the  capital  of  Queenshind. 

IVIrs.  Pilgrim  had  declared 
that  nothing  would  induce  her  to 
go  a  mile  by  water  tluit  could  be 
traversed  by  land.  So  we  had  traveled  by  rail  from  Ade- 
laide to  jVIelbourne,  from  ]\[elbourne  to  Sydney,  from 
Sydney  to  Brisbane,  ca  long  eighteen  hundred  miles  in  all ; 
had  attended  most  enthusiastic  and  long-to-be-remembered 

(115) 


I 


If  > .. 


:i!^i 


ii(i 


NOT   AN    KVEllV-lJAV    JOLIINEV. 


(Mii'istiiin  Eiidojivor  (Conventions  in  ull  tiiosc  cities;  iind  on 
the  jii'tcnioon  of  Octolnn"  22  were  ready  to  einl)a!-i<  on  the 
ti'ini  and  slanncli  C/iliujhi-^  "the  magnilicent  stiiainer,"  iis 
the  lunvspaju'i"  advertisements  called  lier,  ol"  the  China  Navi- 
gation ('oin])any. 

I  slioidd  hai'div  term  her  "inaynillcent"  hnt  sluMvas  an 
exceedin<^ly  comloi'tabh;  vessel,  and  for  three  weeks  aH'orded 
ns  a  very  restfnl  and  pleasant  liome  after  the  hibors  of  six 
weeks  of  continnons  convent!*  n-going. 

Now  before  ns  is  a  voya<^e  worth  takln<^  indeed.  Noiu^ 
of  youi'  (!verv-(lay  trips  across  the  Atlantic  that  you  can 
make  in  i\\v,  fraction  of  a  week;  noiu;  of  your  common 
jaunts  across  the  h)ng  ferry  between  San  Francisco  and 
I  long  Kong;  but  a  uni(|ue  and  unusual  joui'ney  is  this 
witinn  the  (treat  Barrier  Keef,  and  thi-ough  the  marvelous 
Malay  Archipelago,  and  the  many  seas  and  sti-aits  which 
form  the  watei'-way  between  two  of  our  iivo  continents. 

Here  is  a  new  sensation  for  the  hhtuS  traveler;  a  journey 
at  which  every  scribbling  voyager  innw  the  time  of  Colum- 
bus lias  not  had  a  hack.  Jlere  is  a  trip  over  nnruHled 
seas  and  on  an  even  keel,  such  a  trip  as  (me  frequently  reads 
about  in  Haming  desci'ipticms  of  lival  steamboat  lines,  but 
very  rarely  exj)eriences  after  one  has  taken  i)assage  on  one 
of  the  aforesaid  rival  steamshi))s. 

]?efore  W(;  get  out  of  !Mor(!ton  bay,  into  which  the  Bris- 
bane river  debouches  and  which  is  the  point  of  our  embai'ka- 
tion,  let  us  take  a  look  at  the  ChitKjtn,  our  floating  home  for 
the  next  three  Aveeks.  It  is  a  long,  low-built,  somewhat 
rakish-looking  steamer,  Avith  a  huge  black  smoke-stack,  a 
large  amount  of  awning  to  ward  otl'  the  rays  of  the  fierce 
troj)ical  sun,  and  large  steerage  accommodations  for  J(jIiii 
Chinaman,  who  always  extensively  patronizes  this  line,  as  he 
goes  back  and  forth  to  and  from  his  native  land. 


ON   HOARD   THK   "CHINQTU." 


117 


Beiii'^  built  liU'^'c'ly  l'<»r  IVei^lit,  tlu;  lirst-rlass  piisscn^csr 
acc'oimiiodiitions  aru  somewhat  liinit<'<l,  l)iit  they  arc;  (jiiito 
sutlicieiit  lor  the  passoii^'er  trallk;  ol'  this  riMuotc!  conuT  of 
th(^  woi'hl,  aiul  they  make  up  in  (|uality  what  they  hick  in 
(|iiantity.  Evei'ythin<^  is  exquisitely  neat,  tlu;  table  is  abun- 
dant und  exc(»llent,  and  tlu;  service  of  the  ('hineso  stewurds 
leaves  nothing  to  be;  desired,  (^uiek,  observunt,  quiet,  cat- 
like in  their  tread,  these  China  boys  are  the  perfection  of 
ship  servants. 

All  oui"  sailors,  as  well  as  cooks,  waiters,  and  stciward^ 
are  (Miinese  orAlalays,  ai\d  ev(Mi  the  librarian  of  the  (^/I'nujtic- 
is  ''Number  One  IJoy"  as  his  fellow-stewai'ds  call  him.  At 
the  table  the  watchful  "Hoy"  who  is  detailed  to  look  alter 
our  comfort  stands  at  our  elbow  to  replenish  our  tund)ler,  or 
to  nil  our  teacup,  or  to  |)ass  us  the  toast  whenevei'onr  enq)ty 
cup  or  i)late  sugg'ests  any  lack,  and  gently  to  insinuate  the 
bill  of  fare  under  our  nose  when  W(>  ])aus(;  for  a  monunit  in 
our  <j,'astron()mic  elforts. 

Order  for  "loast  beef"  and  "olange  tlittels"  arc^  continu- 
ally sent  back  to  the  cook  in  the  galley,  and  I  know  of 
a  small  boy  who  finds  it  very  hard  to  I'epress  a  snicker  when 
at  the  bi'eakfast  table  the  fre(pient  o)'der  for  "lice  cakes" 
is  heard. 

In  every  way  we  are  reminded  that  the  ship  is  built  for 
tropical  weather.  The  doubhi  awning  over  the  [)i"omenade 
deck,  through  which  even  the  awl'td  sun-glai'e  of  Noithern 
Austi'alia  linds  it  hard  to  pierce;;  tlu;  heavy  Indian  |nuikahs 
over  each  table,  which,  during  the  meals,  are  swung  by 
invisible  coolies;  the  hard  beds  on  which  are  no  blatdscts  or 
spreads  or  even  sheets,  all  tell  us  to  niake  up  oui"  minds  for 
hot  weather.  And  well  we  may,  for  the  cruise  of  the 
ah'iutjtii   is  alnu)st   wholly  within    the  tropics. 

The  only  drawback  (and  iu  this  imperfect  world  there 


'  ii 


11 


m 


118 


THE   AH   SEES. 


hS' 


I  *  ■ 


must  bo  sonic  drawbaok  oven  to  such  ji  suininor  voyii<^o  as 
this)  is  tho  continuous  heat.  Not  that  it  is  ivinarkably  in- 
tense at  any  one  nioniont,  l)nt  it  is  so  uni'CMnittin<^-  and  on  r 
vatin<^  that  one  ]on<^'s  for  iin  ic(>  pahico  and  a  tobo<^gan  slido 
many  times  every  (hiy.  Kighty-live  degrees  in  the  morning, 
and  eighty -seven  degrees  at  noon,  and  eighty-ilve  degrees 
again  at  sunset,  and  eighty-four  degrees  at  nii(hiight,  wiien 
continued  (hiy  after  (hiy,  are  calcuhited  to  rechice  tho  pity 
one  has  alwnys  felt  for  the  Es(|uimau  in  his  snow  hut. 

Now  let  us  take  a  h)ok  iit  our  feUow  ])nssengers  of  the 
Chinyta.  Not  the  Europeans  with  their  continental  (h'oss 
and  their  chimney-pot  liats  and  tlieir  calf-skin  boots:  we 
will  not  waste  our  time  upon  such  common  peo])le  (by  the 
way,  your  point  of  view  makes  all  the  ditrerence  in  the 
world  as  to  who  the  common  ])eo[)le  are),  but  wo  will  look 
on  the  afterdeck  and  on  tho  ])oop  for  tho  second  and  third- 
class  passengei's,  if  wo  would  forage  in  fresh  fields  and 
human  pastures  new. 

There  on  the  poop  deck  we  shnU  find  Mr.  All  See  with 
his  two  wives  and  his  four  children ;  tho  prosperous  Chinese 
merchant  of  Sydney,  who  has  made  his  little  [)ile  in  Aus- 
tralia, and  is  going  home  to  spend  it  in  Canton,  Avhere  he 
will  bo  a  great  and  wealthy  man  among  his  almond-eyed 

Mr.  Ah  See  is  fat  and  good-natured,  and  seems  very  fond 
of  the  four  little  Ah  Sees,  even  though  two  of  them  are 
girls.  Like  the  model  husband  that  he  seems  to  be,  he  has 
one  of  the  cliiklren  in  his  arms  most  of  the  time,  even 
though  he  has  two  wives  to  care  for  them. 

But    "Tommy"    and     "Fleddy,"     and     "Maly"    and 

"Eliza"  are  all  very  nearly  of  an  age,  and  are  quite  bright 

and  pert  enough  to  do  credit  to  their  English  names.     Mrs. 

Ah  See  Number  One  is  a  stout  woman  with  a  pleasanv, 


TAME   BLACKS. 


119 


motherly  face,  slant  eyes,  and  two  liiig(i  slicll  i'iii<;s  in  her 
ears,  while  her  hair  is  done  up  in  a  most  feni'liil  and  woiid(»r- 
I'ul  fashion,  (juite  ecjual  to  tlu;  coitrure  of  an  Amei-iciin  l)elle 
when  chif^nons  Avere  in  fashion  a  few  yeai'S  since. 

She  evidently  "rules  the  roost"  in  the  Ah  See  houseiiold, 
while  !Mrs.  Ah  See  Number  Two  is  like  an  ohler  dau^^^iiter, 
thou<^h  more  submissive  and  bidable  than  s(nne  ehler  (hiug'h- 
ters  whom  I  know. 

AVhen  I  desire  to  take  their  pictures,  Mrs.  Nunib(!i'  One 
steps  forward,  takes  little  ICliza  from  Mrs.  Number  Two,  who 
is  giving  the  baby  her  morning  meal  from  the  maternal 
fount,  and  is  ready  to  pose  l)efore  the  kodak  in  her  a])pi'o- 
priate  place  as  the  rightful  head  of  the  family  and  the 
mother  of  all  the  children  ;  and,  in  a  certain  sense,  of  all 
the  other  wiv^es  as  well. 

Here,  also,  are  three  "  black  fellows "  among  the  third- 
class  passengers  who  are  going  to  Port  Darwin  with  a  cattle- 
(li'ove,  and  from  thence  into  the  uninhabited  wikls  of  South 
Australia.  Quiet,  stolid,  undemonstrative  fellows  are  these 
"  tame  blacks,"  who  seem  to  care  for  nothing  but  to  be 
stretched  on  the  hatchway  all  day  long,  and  to  sit  up  long 
enough  to  oat  an  enormous  plate  of  beef  and  potatoes  and 
cabbage  three  times  a  day.  Their  skins  are  jet  black ;  such, 
a  depth  of  lustrous  blackness  as  I  have  nev^er  seen  except  in 
Australian  aborigines ;  their  eyes  are  as  black  as  their  skins, 
uiul  glow  like  tw^o  stars  in  a  setting  of  alabaster  ;  while  their 
woolly  hair  that  stands  up  on  end  is  as  black  as  everything 
else  about  them  excepting  the  whites  of  their  eyes. 

Their  faces  are  not  vicious,  however,  and  they  make 
faithful  shepherds  and  herdsmen  who  will  defend  their  mas- 
ters against  their  ferocious  brethren,  who  still  infest  the 
northern  portion  of  Australia. 

Interesting  as  are  our  second  and  third-class  fellow  pas- 


uA 


120 


OUR  FRIENDS   IN  THE  STEERAGE. 


in.  ■ 


1  |P^HH 


•'I 


sengers,  our  friends  in  the  steerage  are  more  interesting  still, 
for  here  wo  have  John  Chinaman,  in  all  his  heathen  unlove- 
liness,  to  be  sure,  but  at  the  same  time,  m  all  his  picturesque 
barbarity.  Here  are  some  fifty  or  sixty  Mongolians  going 
back  to  China  once  more.  More  than  Mecca  to  the  Moham- 
medan, more  than  Paris  to  the  Frenchman,  more  than 
London  to  the  cockney,  is  China  to  the  Chinaman.  His 
cupidity  will  tempt  him  to  go  away,  but  nothing  can  per- 
suade him  to  stay  away  from  his  beloved  land,  and  every 
returning  ship  is  loaded  Avith  returning  Celestials.  If,  by 
any  mischance,  he  dies  away  from  home,  his  bones  are 
never  allowed  to  rest  in  peace  except  in  the  soil  of  the  Flow- 
ery Kingdom. 

So  it  happens  that  many  of  our  passengers  on  the 
Chinytu  are  old  men,  decre})it  and  feeble,  toothless  and 
almost  blind,  who  are  evidently  taking  their  bones  home  for 
burial,  thus  getting  a  last  glimpse  of  their  native  land  and 
saving  the  expense  of  an  embalming  surgeon  at  the  same 
time. 

But  others  among  our  passengers  are  stalwart,  lusty 
young  Celestials,  with  neatly-braided  pig-tails  coiled  under 
their  caps  or  thrust  into  a  side-pocket  of  their  white  blouses. 

It  is  an  unending  source  of  enjoyment  to  go  into  the 
steerage  at  any  hour  of  the  day  or  night,  a  free  play-house, 
Avhere  the  actors  are  all  entirely  unconscious  of  histrionic 
effort,  and  thus  attain  the  perfection  of  good  acting. 

To  go  down  the  companion-way  Avhich  separates  the 
cabin  passengers  from  the  steerage,  is  a  swift  descent  from 
Europe  to  China,  and  at  meal-times  the  visit  is  always  espe- 
cially interesting.  In  their  very  impromptu  meals,  first  a 
big  Avicker  basket  of  rice,  the  great  staple  of  Chinadoin 
everywhere,  is  brought  in  from  the  galley  and  set  down 
anywhere  on  the  steerage  deck.     Then  a  small  dish  of  meat 


J'l 


RICE  AND  CHOPSTICKS. 


121 


soused  in  plenty  of  gravy  follows,  then  another  dish  of 
boiled  greens  and  a  bottle  of  Chinese  wine  is  set  on  the  deck, 
and  dinner  is  served.  A  dozen  bare-legged  Chinamen,  clad 
in  shiny  black  waterproof  blouses,  squat  around  these  four 
dishes  and  ])repare  for  business.  Each  has  a  china  bowl  and 
two  chopsticks  in  his  hand.  First  )ie  fills  his  bowl  to  the 
brim  with  boiled  rice,  and  then  how  he  makes  the  chop, 
sticks  fly  !  Putting  the  rim  of  the  bowl  close  up  to  his  lips, 
he  shovels  his  mouth  full  of  rice  with  his  ra])id  little  sticks. 
"When  it  can  hold  no  more  he  pauses  for  a  moment  for 
iH'eatli  and  for  mastication,  and  then  picks  up  most  dexter- 
ously a  morsel  of  meat  and  a  wad  of  greens  which  he  crowds 
into  the  interstices  of  the  rice-filled  cavern  Avhicli  he  calls  his 
month. 

After  munching  this  mixture  with  evident  satisfaction 
for  a  minute  or  two,  he  again  raises  the  rice  bowl  to  his  lips, 
oi'ams  the  cavern  again  with  the  utmost  alacrity,  adds  ^a 
little  spice  in  the  way  of  meat  and  greens,  and  enjoys  an- 
otiier  rapturous  period  of  mastication  until  that,  too,  is  dis- 
])osed  of.  It  is  wonderful  how  long  these  fellows  can  squat 
<  in  their  haunches.  A  position  which  would  cramp  our  mar- 
row bones  in  half  a  minute  they  will  maintain  throughout  a 
long  meal,  apparently  with  the  utmost  ease  and  composure. 

Just  beyond  the  dinner  party  is  a  circle  of  gamblers 
around  the  fan-tan  "  lay  out " ;  for  John  is  an  inveterate 
gambler.  He  will  work  like  a  slave  for  years  in  some 
foreign  land,  save  and  scrape  and  hoard  and  live  on  next  to 
nothing;  and  then  gamble  away  all  his  little  hoard  on  his 
journey  back  to  China.  First,  ho  will  bet  all  his  money, 
tlien  Avager  his  clothes,  and  then  his  wife  and  children, 
wliile,  if  his  soul  were  at  his  own  disposal,  I  have  no  doubt 
lie  Avould  Avager  that  in  his  passion  for  gambling. 

Squatting  on  their  haunches  in  a  corner  of  the  steerage 


f 


9   *■• 


■n\ 


122 


WITHIN  THE  BARRIER  REEF. 


|.  <i , ; 


deck  is  another  circle  of  Chinese  gjunblcM's,  throwin*^  dice 
and  playing  cards,  with  a  dexterity  ac([iiired  only  by  long 
experience.  They  are  smoking  cigai'ettes,  or  curious  ])ipes 
with  minute  bowls,  which  when  not  in  use  they  tuck  behind 
their  ears,  until  they  desire  another  whiflF. 

But  it  must  not  be  thought  that  all  the  passengers  of  the 
Chhujtu  are  gamblers.  A  traveler  in  foreign  lands  is  only 
in  duty  bound  to  describe  the  unusual  and  picturesque,  and 
he  need  not  waste  his  space  upon  the  manly  but  everyday 
officers  of  the  Chingtu,  or  the  very  pleasant,  but  quite  un- 
noteworthy  Englishmen  and  Australians,  Americans  and 
Germans  and  Frenchmen  who  make  up  her  small  first-class 
passenger  list. 

Now  it  is  quite  time  that  we  turn  our  thoughts  from  the 
little  Avorld  of  the  Chingtu  to  the  larger  world  around  us. 

"We  were  just  steering  out  of  Moreton  bay,  were  we  not, 
when  we  went  below  to  look  at  our  strange  assortment 
of  passengers? 

The  water  is  smooth  and  glassy,  and  over  just  such  an 
unruffled  sea  the  captain  tells  we  are  likely  to  sail  for  more 
than  two  weeks,  for,  during  the  first  Aveek,  Ave  shall  keep 
well  within  the  Great  Barrier  reefs  Avhich  effectually  prevent 
the  rude  Atlantic  waves  from  buffeting  our  progress ;  and 
during  the  second  Aveek,  the  many  islands  off  the  coast  of 
Northern  Australia  and  the  Malay  Arcliii)elago  act  as  break- 
waters for  our  course,  so  that,  practically,  Avitli  the  exception 
of  the  last  three  days,  the  Avliole  cruise  of  the  Chingtu  is 
Avithin  landlocked  seas.  This  assurance  is  a  great  delight  to 
some  of  our  company,  for  even  the  most  indifferent  sailor 
cannot  fail  to  enjoy  such  a  trip  as  this. 

Those  sunbaked,  blistered  mountains  on  our  left  mark 
the  coast  of  Queensland,  and  Avhat  a  tremendous  colony  it 
is!    More  than  five  times  the  size  of  Great  Britain  and  Ire- 


)n 


IS 


l(H' 


it 


h 
t: 
(I 

V 

tl 

C 


I  i  '' 


I  A 


Ul 

sa 

j)l 

teJ 

ali 

go 

lio 

Jini 

pn 

ev( 

Va 

Ell 

"fr 

too 

wil 

cast 

iiiai 


lieai 
islai 
witl 
sens 
] 
ofrei 


M 


VVHITR   MAN,    HE  TOO  SALT. 


136 


-Jatflfcr. 


land,  the  gcogra})liies  tell  us,  and  we  can  well  imagine  that 
they  are  not  exaggerating  the  truth,  as  we  sail  on,  day  after 
(lay,  day  after  day,  in 
vain  effort  to  get  beyond 
tlie  northern  point  of 
Cape  York. 

Far  off  yonder  in 
Northern  Australia  are 
unexplored  wilds  !>iid 
savage  black  men,  who 
would  not  only  take 
pleasure,  so  our  captain 
tells  us,  in  flaying  us 
alive,  but  in  eating  tt 
good  tender  Yankee  after 
lie  has  been  well  flayed 
and  cooked.  These  blacks 
prefer  Chinamen,  how- 
ever, so  he  assures  us,  to 
Yankees  or  to  people  of 
European  extraction  of  any  kind,  for  they  are  much 
"fresher"  says  our  epicurean  aboriginal.  "White  man,  he 
too  salt,"  is  the  verdict  of  this  fastidious  savage.  AVell,  we 
will  rejoice  in  our  saline  characteristics,  for  if  we  should  be 
cast  ashore  on  this  inhospitable  coast,  salt,  as  is  its  nature, 
may  preserve  us. 

On  the  left  or  Australian  side,  as  we  steam  northward, 
headland  succeeds  headland;  on  the  right,  island  succeeds 
island,  and  so  all  da}'^  long  and  all  the  days  long,  we  glide  on 
with  never  enough  of  a  pitch  or  a  roll  to  disturb  the  most 
sensitive  stomach. 

Early  in  its  history  the  government  of  Queensland 
oilered  rewards,  varying  from  a  thousand  to  five  thousand 


ABOUKUNAL   AUSTRALIAN. 


P 


I 


1-^6 


CAPUK'IOL'H   FORTUNE. 


(loUiirs  for  the  tliscovorv  of  i)ayiil)lo  j^'-old  lields.  As  can 
easily  bo  imagined,  this  offer,  coinl)in(Ml  with  the  certain 
wealtli  which  a  great  gohl  mine  wouhl  assure,  set  many  men 
to  searching  with  all  their  eyes  over  the  hot  ))lains  of 
ijueensland.  JJut  fortune  is  ju-overhially  capricious  witii 
the  gold  seeker,  and  it  so  hai)i)ened  that  not  one  of  these 
scientific  gold  hunters,  but  a  ])oor  vagabond,  named  Nash, 
who  toward  the  end  of  1S«;7  was  wandering  about  in  an  aim- 
less sort  of  way  in  the  neighborhood  of  Cxymjjie,  about  Dio 
miles  from  l>risbane,  found  "an  auriferous  region  of  great 
extent,"  as  the  Australian  histories  put  it.  In  other  words, 
he  had  struck  gold  and  struck  it  rich.  In  a  day  or  two  his 
ompty  pockets  were  heavier  by  several  thousand  dollars 
worth  of  gold  than  when  he  made  1ms  great  "iind."  At  first 
he  set  to  woi'k  to  gather  it  all  in  for  himself,  but  his  goUl 
field  was  near  a  traveled  I'oad,  and  he  was  frequently 
<)ljli<;ed  to  crouch  anions  the  bushes  until  the  distant  foot- 
steps  told  him  that  the  departing  traveler  was  far  on  his 
way.  Then  he  would  go  to  work  Avith  feverish  haste  to 
scrai)o  together  a  few  more  shining  Hakes  of  the  precious 
metal. 

At  length,  however,  he  found  that  he  could  not  keep  his 
precious  gold  field  all  to  himself  any  longer,  and,  going  to 
the  nearest  town  of  ^[aryborough,  he  proclaimed  his  discov- 
ery, and  received  his  reward. 

As  can  easily  be  imagined,  a  rush  at  once  took  place  to 
Gympie,  and  one  of  the  early  gold  birds  found  a  most  re- 
markable Avorra  very  near  the  surface  of  the  gi'ound,  in  tlio 
shape  of  a  nugget  of  pure  gold  that  weighed  nearly  a  hun- 
dred pounds. 

Even  this  nugget,  however,  is  eclipsed  by  several  that 
Iiave  been  found  in  the  colony  of  Victoria,  such  as  the 
''Welcome    Stranger,"    found    in    1869,    which    actually 


Jl 


m 


WELCOME  NUtKJETS   FOR   WEARY   MINERS. 


1«7 


ll 


uei/^liod  in  the  sciiles  l!>i»  pounds,  and  was  worth  about 
f(U*tv  thousand  doUai's.  IJesi(U's  tho  *'\Volconio  Strangor" 
was  the  "  Welcome"  nugget,  found  in  1H.')S,  and  only  smaller 
by  six  i)ounds  than  the  great  golden  lump  I  have  already 
described,  while  still  another,  found  in  1S."»3,  weighed  almost 
\:\'2  })ounds, 

"■  Welcome  strangers,"  indeed,  were  all  these  nuggets  to 
the  weary  and  often  discouraged  miners,  lint  those  discov- 
eries were  made  in  the  golden  age  of  Australian  gold  min- 
ing. A  friend  of  mine  who  lived  in  I5allarat  during  this 
golden  age,  tells  me  that  freciuently,  when  a  boy,  lie  has 
i)orrowed  tho  nnuhlv  l)oots  of  the  miners  after  their  return 
fi'om  a  day's  work  in  the  alluvial  gold  iields,  for  the  sake  of 
scraping  the  mud  off  their  dirty  brogans  ;  and  that  he  has 
frecjueiitly  scraped  live  shillings  worth  of  gold  from  a  single 
pair  of  boots. 

lie  was  an  honest,  truthful  man,  moreover,  who  told  me 
this  story,  and  lie  Avould  not  be  guilty  of  presuming  on  tho 
gullibility  of  a  credulous  Yankee.  So  my  readers  may 
accept  his  astounding  story  as  absolute  truth. 

IJut  to  return  to  the  Queensland  gold  fields.  The 
romance  of  the  Morgan  mine  eclipses  all  the  rest.  In  1858, 
a  young  squatter  bought  from  the  government  a  section  of 
*>4o  acres  near  Rockliam})ton.  When  he  came  to  "squat," 
iiowever,  he  found  that  his  selection  was  a  barren,  rocky  hill, 
and  that  it  Avas  quite  useless  for  agricultural  ])urposes.  So 
lie  thought  himself  very  luckv  Avhen  he  found  three  l)rotliers 
named  Morgan,  Avho  would  take  his  un])rofitable  purchase 
off  his  hands  lor  about  three  thousand  dollars.  Hugging  his 
precious  three  thousand  dollars,  he  left  that  ])art  of  tho  coun- 
try forever,  shaking  its  unproductive  dust  from  his  feet. 

But  the  Morgan  brothers  found,  that  though  they  could 
not  raise  cabbages  among  the  dirty  gray  rocks  of  their  new 


i 


Il 

1  'A 

I  >l  1  n 


128 


A  rAHC'HEU   AND   HOWLING   WILDERNESS. 


])ur(;liiiso,  tli«'V  could  get  out  of  them  Hoim.'tliiiig  vastly  more 
valuable,  for  in  ovcry  cart  load  of  tho  rock  there  was  more 
than  one  lumdivd  dollars'  worth  of  gold  ;  in  fact,  they  found 
that  they  had  on  their  hands  the  richest  gold  mine  ever  dis- 
covered in  the  iiistory  of  the  world. 

A  year  or  two  after  this  the  hill  was  sold  for  forty  mil- 
lions of  dollars,  and  already  dividends  to  the  amount  of 
nearly  fifty  millions  of  dollars  have  been  paid  by  the  Mor- 
gan mine,  and  still  there  are  "millions  in  it." 

But  to  skip  from  shore  to  sea  again.  As  tho  'C/iiiujtif 
makes  lier  slow  and  tortuous  way  along  tho  coast,  avoiding 
sunken  reefs,  dodging  islands,  and  threading  intricate  pas- 
sages, we  see  very  littlo  of  human  life  except  that  which  our 
polyglot  and  cosmopolitan  passenger  list  contains.  For  hun- 
dreds of  miles  there  is  no  white  settlement,  only  a  parched 
and  howling  wilderness,  into  which  it  is  not  safe  for  a  white 
man  to  penetrate  unless  with  a  strong  guard.  Here  and 
there  a  bush-iire  shows  us  the  location  of  a  native  encami)- 
ment,  and  once  wo  descried  on  tho  water  horizon  a  black 
speck  which  seemed  to  be  moving  nearer.  Anything 
unusual  at  sea  attracts  attention,  and  it  was  not  long  before 
half  a  dozen  opera  glasses  were  trained  upon  tho  sjjot.  The 
speck  soon  resolved  itself  into  a  native  canoe,  and  the  canoe 
was  seen  to  contain  four  naked  blacks.  Tlieir  craft  was 
simi)ly  a  hollowed-out  log  pointed  at  tho  ends,  with  a  long 
outrider  which  prevented  it  from  rolling  over  as  it  certainly 
would  have  done  otherwise.  As  the  blacks  came  nearer,  we 
saw  that  they  were  bearing  down  upon  our  ship  and  pad- 
dling Avitli  all  their  might.  When  they  got  within  ear  shot 
they  all  lifted  up  their  voices  and  cried  :  "  backy,"  "  backy," 
"  backy  "  (tobacco). 

But  the  Chingtu  majestically  kept  on  her  way.  The  pit- 
iful cry,  "  backy,"  "  backy,"  "  backy,"  became  fainter  and 


THE  CONyUEUING  AN0L0-8AXUN. 


Vid 


fainter,  the  lo;;  caiioo  faded  into  a  speck  a^ain,  and  the  speck 
vanishiul  altogetiier. 

Wiiat  a  perfect  type,  I  said  to  myself,  of  the  vanishing 
hushnien  in  the  presence  of  the  majestic  white  race.     What 


•'UACKY,"    "BACKY." 

tiie  feeble  little  dug-out  is  to  the  full-powered  ocean  steamer, 
so  is  the  remnant  of  this  aboriginal  nation  to  the  all-conquer- 
ing whites.  As  the  Chingta  contemptuously  leaves  the 
canoe  in  the  distance  without  even  slackening  speed  to  listen 
to  the  appeal  of  its  occupants,  so  the  contemptuous  English- 
s])eaking  races  in  all  parts  of  the  world  leave  their  colored 
Iji'cthren  behind  or  spurn  them  from  their  presence.  As 
''  backy  "  was  the  cne  corrupted  English  Avord  which  these 
black  fellows  seemed  to  know,  so  the  vices  of  the  dominant 
race  first  become  known  and  assimilated.  As  the  canoe  van- 
ished into  the  hazy  distance  while  the  Chlngtu  held  strongly 
on  her  appointed  cruise,  so  the  black  races  are  disappearing, 


■■!■ 


130 


THROUOH   ALIL\NY   PASS. 


(Iiiir 


? 


while  the  Anglo-Saxons  keep  steadily  on  their  way,  conquer- 
ing anil  to  conquer. 

Jiut  while  wo  are  musing  about  these  black  fellows,  the 
Chinytu  has  been  ])lowing  her  serpentine  way  along  the 
much-indented  coast  of  this  huge  colony. 

AV^e  have  left  the  sandy  reach  where  (/aj)t.  Cook  nu)re 
than  a  hundred  years  ago  beached  his  famous  ship,  the 
Eudi'xwor,  which  had  been  sadly  disabled  in  ti'vin<>-  to  ilnd 
an  entrance  through  the  J>arrier  Keef ;  we  have  steamed  i'oi' 
a  whole  week  since  leaving  Brisbane,  along  these  unending 
shores ;  and  now,  just  seven  days  from  the  start,  the  (Jlnnijiii 
cleaves  her  way  through  Albany  I'ass,  a  narrow  strait 
between  two  verdure-clad  islands,  at  the  very  tip  eiul  of 
Northern  Austi'alia. 

On  either  hand  as  we  went  thi'ough  Albany  Pass,  we 
saw  hundreds  of  curious  red  mounds,  which  at  lirst  we  took 
for  decaying  tree  stumps,  so  regular  and  symmetrical  were 
they.  But  on  examinihg  them  more  closely  through  our 
glasses  we  found  that  they  were  white  ant  hills,  and  a  nu)st 
singular  a})})earance  they  gave  the  land,  as  though  it  had 
been  hastily  cleared  by  settlers  Avho  had  left  the  stumps 
about  four  feet  high  to  rot  away  at  their  leisure. 

Soon  after  ])assing  through  Albany  strait,  the  gaunt, 
spectral  yards  of  a  four-nuisted,  sijuare-rigged  ship  ap})eai'ed 
on  the  horizon,  fixed  and  motionless  as  they  have  been  for 
five  years  past,  ever  since  the  good  ship  Vohja  struck  on  the 
coral  reef  and  sunk  in  a  few  fathoms  of  Avater,  leaving  her 
yards  and  masts  above  the  waves,  a  sad  monument  to  the 
power  of  the  unseen  foe  beneath. 

Then  a  few  more  hours  of  sailing  and  we  drop  anchor  in 
the  roadstead  of  Thursday  Island  at  the  northern  extremity 
of  Caj)e  York,  and  at  this  safe  anchorage,  the  first  part  of 
the  cruise  of  the  Chiuytii  has  come  to  an  end. 


CHAI'TKR  VII. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  TIIK  r7/A\Y,' 77/^^  — CONTINUED, 

All  tlie  Days  of  the  AVcck  — A  Convenient  Nomenclature  —  A  I)i(!t  of  Seii 
Worms  —  Trade  in  H!oo<isu(kers  —  Hcminiscences  of  My  IJoyiiood  —  A 
Hideous  Delicacy  —  Tiie  I'earl  Fisiicry — Plums  in  the  I'udding  —  The 
Pearl  Diver's  E(nnpment  — A  Wiiort  but  not  u  Merry  Life  —  A  Haking 
Day  and  Steamy  Ni.s^ht  —  The  Ahorijrines— In  the  Celebes  Sea  —  Tiiu 
Connecticut  of  tiie  South  Sea — The  Nutmeg  at  Home  —  The  Possibili- 
ties of  a  Ball  of  Twine  —  How  the  Hride  Wore  tlie  Trousers — Euro- 
l)ean  Clotiies  and  Civilization  —  A  Snake  Story  —  An  Unwelcome 
Guest— Dislodging  his  Serpcntship  —  A  Hattle  with  a  Python  —  Tiie 
Spicy  Hreezes  —  The  Noble  Work  of  the  Missionary  —  How  tlu;  Cluef 
Took  the  Census  — At  His  Wit's  End  — A  Slwewd  Hajaii  — Some 
Passengers  —  Some  Members  of  the  Feline  Tribe  —  The  Tale  of  Tor- 
toise-shell Tommy. 


|IIlIIiSI)AY  ISLAND  is  the  only 
isluiul  in  tlio  littl(3  iirchipdiigo  to 
tlio  north  ot"  Aiisti'jiliii  tliiit  con- 
tains any  considerable  settlement 
of  Enro[)eaiis,  but  tlie  other  (hiys 
of  the  week  are  not  ne<^lecte<l  by 
any  means,  for  there  is  Friday 
Island  and  Saturday  Island,  Sun- 
day Island  and  Monday  Island, 
iWKP^:-^  to»isi*^-^  Tuesday   Island  and  Wednesday 

[^■^*li^^^T^^  .  Island;  and  the   (liitKjta  steams 

by  neai'ly  all  of  them  in  goinj^  in 

or  out  of  Thursday  Island  harbor. 

A  convenient  method  of  nomenclature  this,  which  wo 

would  commend  to  geographei's  who  have  lands  to  name,  if 

there  renuiin  any  new  lands  to  be  discovered.     Then,  when 

(i:}l) 


132 


NAMING  COUNTRIES  FROM  THE  CALENDAR. 


,r: 


u  ■.} 


'vM 


t ' 


>5|: 


ill 


the  days  of  the  week  have  been  exhausted,  they  would  find 
an  ahnost  unfailing  source  of  supply  in  the  days  of  the 
month,  as,  for  instance,  the  "  Fifth  of  November,"  and  the 
"■  Twentv-third  of  Julv,"  and  "  Januarv  Eio-hteenth," 

Then  the  hours  of  the  day  might  be  resorted  to,  and  wo 
should  read  upon  our  ma])s  "  Four  O'clock  Island,"  and 
"  Midnight  Bay,"  and  "  Six-thirty  Eiver."  What  a  pity 
this  i)icturesque  system  suggested  by  Thursday  and  her  sis- 
ter islands  was  not  thought  of  before  we  had  disfigured  our 
maps  with  so  many  Smith-towns  and  Brownsvilles  and  Jones- 
ports,  and  Clark  counties ! 

Soon  the  Chingtii  is  not  only  anchored,  but  made  doubly 
secure  by  being  tied  up  to  an  old  hulk  which  is  anchored  in 
the  roadstead  for  a  sort  of  cargo-receiving  ship  ;  and  by  the 
kind  thoughtfulness  of  friends  in  Sydney,  who  had  "wired" 
that  we  were  coming,  we  are  taken  ashore  by  the  agent  of 
the  chief  mercantile  house  of  the  place,  and  are  shown 
everything  that  the  resources  of  Thursday  Island  have  to 
offer. 

What  are  the  great  staple  exports  of  Thursday  Island, 
my  readers?  If  I  should  give  you  twenty  or  a  hundred 
and  twenty  guesses,  you  would  not  solve  the  conundrum. 
Not  gold  or  silver,  or  tin  or  copper,  or  wool  or  mutton,  or 
wheat  or  corn,  or  machinery  or  cotton  goods,  or  sugar  or 
spice,  or  rice  or  Yankee  notions,  but  —  do  you  give  it  up  ? 
Beehe  de  mer  and  mother-of-pearl ;  or,  in  other  words,  sea 
worms  and  oyster  shells. 

The  Beehe  de  mer  is  a  long,  slimy,  nasty  (in  the  Ameri- 
can, not  the  English,  sense  of  the  word)  slug,  which  looks 
for  all  the  world  like  an  exaggerated  leech  —  the  loathsome 
bloodsucker  that  used  to  fasten  itself  on  my  legs  when  I  was 
a  small  boy  and  "  Avent  in  swimming,"  as  small  boys  love  to 
do.    But  the  Chinese  consider  this  hideous  slug  a  great  deli- 


m ' 


THE   PEARL   FISHERIES   AND   DIVERS. 


133 


cacy,  and  a  very  large  commerce  in  it  has  sprung  up,  for 
nowhere  does  it  grow  so  fat  and  kiscious  as  on  tlie  Aus- 
tralian coast  and  the  adjacent  ishmds. 

There  are  various  kinds  of  Brchc  de  me/',  whicli  experts 
distinguish  as  white,  red,  black,  etc.;  and  it  brings  from 
$15(1.0(1  to  $750.00  a  ton.  Just  now,  I  believe,  the  red 
species  of  hideousness  is  most  affected  by  Chinese  gour- 
mands. I  saw  tons  of  these  slugs  dried  and  baled,  and 
waiting  for  transportation  to  the  Flowery  Kingdom. 
*■  Dried  fish  "  is  the  eu})honious  but  common])lace  name  by 
which  this  article  of  export  is  known  in  Thursday  Island, 

But  the  pearl  fishery  is,  after  all,  the  largest  industry, 
important  as  is  the  Beche  de  iner  trade.  Three  hundred 
small  boats  are  engaged  in  the  pearl  fisheries,  and  very 
profitable  they  often  prove  to  their  owners,  for  not  only  is 
there  a  steady  demand  for  the  mother-of-pearl  shell,  but 
single  perfect  pearls  are  sometimes  found  worth  from  $1,000 
to  $3,000  ;  so  that  always  there  is  the  excitement  of  possible 
sudden  wealth  connected  with  this  pursuit. 

But  the  mother-of-pearl  is  the  staple  of  trade,  the  pearls 
themselves  being  only  the  plums  that  are  found  in  the  pud- 
ding at  rare  intervals.  Of  these  shells  there  seems  to  be 
an  inexhaustible  supply,  and  though  the  three  hundred  ves- 
sels engaged  in  the  trade  bring  almost  countless  tons  to  the 
surface,  there  are  still  countless  tons  to  be  won  from  the 
ocean's  depths. 

Our  own  vessel  adds  to  her  cargo  more  than  seventy 
tons  of  shells,  which  Avill  eventually  reach  Birmingham  and 
Sheffield,  to  be  made  up  into  knife-handles  and  card-cases, 
inlaid  cabinets,  and  other  articles  of  vertu. 

The  pearl  diver's  equipment  is  a  most  ungainly  and  curi- 
ous affair,  for  the  shells  are  found  in  water  many  fathoms 
deep,  and  the  heaviest  of  woolen  clothes  are  used  to  protect 


I;? ' 


1:1  ■'■'<■. 


u- 

fji 

1  '1 

-•1 

it 

V  iR'l] 

1: 

134 


ACROSS  THE   GULP  TO  PORT   DARWIN. 


the  (liver  from  the  pressure  of  the  water,  Avhile  the  shoes 
with  leaden  soles  which  he  uses  to  sink  him  to  the  bottom 
weigh  fully  ten  pounds  each,  and  the  helmet  which  he  dons 
weighs  as  much  as  both  his  shoes  put  together. 

But,  even  with  the  best  of  diving  gear  and  the  most  ap- 
proved appliances,  the  diver's  life  is  short  and  risky.  He 
seldom  is  able  to  follow  this  pursuit  more  than  five  or  six 
years,  and  no  divers  reach  old  age. 

Thursday  Island  is  a  place  of  great  expectations  rather 
than  of  vast  performances.  Though  at  present  there  is 
only  a  single  row  of  straggling  shops,  with  a  few  pleasant 
bungalows  behind  them,  and  a  pathetic  little  "•  School  of 
Arts,"  which  contains  two  pictures,  a  few  dilapidated  curios, 
and  a  small  library,  it  expects  to  be  a  great  metropolis  one 
of  these  days ;  and,  in  fact,  has  an  excellent  location  as 
calling  ])ort  for  steamers  going  to  various  parts  of  the  world. 

Our  cargo  of  mother-of-pearl  is  soon  safely  stowed  away 
in  the  hold,  the  Chlngtu  weighs  anchor  again,  and  we  are 
on  our  course  once  more,  across  the  great  Gulf  of  Carpen- 
taria and  the  southern  portion  of  the  Arafura  Sea,  about 
eight  hundred  miles,  as  the  crow  flies,  to  Port  Darwin,  the 
northern  capitjil  of  Xorth  Australia.  » 

If  Thursday  Island  has  its  greatness  in  the  future.  Port 
Darwin  has  had  its  day  in  the  past.  Great  dreams  were  in- 
dulged in  by  its  inhabitants  in  early  days.  A  railroad  was 
to  connect  it  with  Adelaide  across  the  whole  length  of  the 
continent  of  Australia.  All  European  steamers  would  make 
it  their  port,  instead  of  going  around  the  stormy  southern 
coast.  Passengers  and  mails  would  be  transhipped  hence  to 
all  parts  of  the  world.  Its  early-discovered  gokl  niiiu^ 
would  make  everybody  rich,  and  Palmerston,  situated  at  the 
head  of  the  Port,  would  be  one  of  the  great  commercial 
capitals  of  the  world. 


A   DISCOURAGED   RAILROAD. 


130 


But  this  (Ireiiin  has  not  materialized.  The  railroad 
across  the  continent  has  not  been  built  nor  is  it  likely  to  be 
l)uilt.  The  only  railroad  of  which  Port  Darwin  boasts  is  n 
discouraged  sort  of  an  affair,  that  runs  a  hundred  miles  into 
the  interior  and  then  stops,  not  because  it  has  reached  an 


A   YOUNG   CITIZEN   OF  PORT   DARWIN. 


im))ortant  terminus,  but  because  it  has  not  energN'^  to  go  any 
further.  It  cost  a  frightful  amount  of  money,  on  which  the 
South  Australian  people  still  have  to  pay  interest,  for  it  is 
a  government  affair,  as  all  Australian  railroads  are.  The 
two  trains  a  day  have  dwindled  down  to  two  a  week,  and  it 
l)ids  fair  soon  to  rival  the  famous  "  tri-weekly  "  road,  whose 
president  explained  the  title  by  saying  that  he  sent  a  train 
tlown  the  line  one  week  and  tried  to  get  it  back  the  next. 

The  gold  mines  could  not   bo  worked  at  a  profit  by 
Europeans,  and  have  all  fallen  into  the  hands  of  Chinamen, 


130 


BAKED    AND   BOILED. 


''     5; 


^m ,  «= 


mi 


h 


4h 


m^-''  -1 


!^  ^ 


pi 


and  the  five  or  six  thousjind  Englishmen  and-  Australians 
wlio  used  to  walk  the  line,  broad  streets  of  Palmerston,  and 
live  in  its  pleasant  houses,  have  dwindled  to  a  few  hundreds, 
who  grumble  at  the  government  and  shake  their  heads 


A   NORTH  QUEENSLAND   ABORIGINAL. 

dismally,  saying  that  Port  Darwin's  golden  opportunity  has 
gone  by,  never  to  return. 

If  it  is  always  as  hot  in  Port  Darwin  as  on  baking 
day  and  the  steamy  night  that  the  Chingtu  lay  at  her 
wharf,  Avhile  we  were  her  passengers,  I  do  not  wonder  that 
Europeans  Avho  object  to  being  both  baked  and  boiled  m  the 
same  twenty -four  hours  refuse  to  make  it  their  home. 

The  climate,  however,  seems  exactly  to  suit  the  Aborigi- 
nal Australians  who  are  found  here  in  large  numbers.     Tall 


Jess 
after 
birds 
tliose 


w 


SAILING   OVER  TROPIC   SEAS. 


137 


men  ■witli  long,  thin  legs,  intensely  Ijlack  skins,  and  wiry 
crinkly  hair,  tall  women  equally  black  and  equally  thin,  and 
al)solutely  naked  little  boys,  perclied  on  their  mother's  necks 
or  trotting  by  their  mother's  side,  as  happy  as  boys  of  a 
cloudier  clime,  are  seen  everywhere; 

A  few  hours  of  intensely  hot  daylight  and  a  long,  in- 
sufferably hot  night  Avere  quite  enough  of  Port  Darwin  for 
us,  and  glad  we  were  to  hear  the  Captain's  order  the  next 
morning  to  "  cast  off  tlie  bow  line  "  and  get  under  way. 

For  the  next  twenty -three  hundred  miles  the  cruise  of 
the  Chbujtu  is  between  tropic  islands  and  across  tropic  seas ; 
the  Arafura  and  the  Banda  and  the  Celebes  and  the  Sulu 
and  tlie  China  seas,  one  after  the  other  following  each  other 
in  (juick  succession. 

A  most  lovely  sail  it  is,  and  one  that  would  be  taken  far 
oftener  than  it  is  by  pleasure  seekers  if  its  joys  were  known. 
Scarcely  a  day  of  rough  weather  need  be  apprehended  until 
the  China  sea  is  reached,  and  a  most  wonderful  series  of 
archipelagos  is  passed,  any  one  of  which  might  well  delay 
a  naturalist  or  ethnologist  for  years  had  he  the  time  to 
spare. 

Our  course  at  first  lies  among  the  Austro-Malayan  group 
whose  forests  contain  many  of  the  typical  Eucalyptus  trees, 
and  whose  birds  and  insects  are  nearly  allied  to  those  of  the 
great  Australian  continent  Avhich  once  doubtless  extended 
much  further  north  than  it  does  at  present. 

After  we  get  into  the  Celebes  sea  we  have  touched  the 
borders  of  the  Indo-Malayan  region  where  the  islands  are 
less  affected  by  the  blasting  hot  wnnds  that  cross  the  seas 
alter  sweeping  over  the  Australian  deserts,  and  where  the 
birds  and  beasts,  the  trees  and  flowers,  are  more  allied  to 
those  of  India. 

Some  of  these  islands  are  of  vast  extent.     If  you  should 


'ill; 


138 


DUTCH  MONOPOLY  OF  NUTMEGS. 


m 


|;< 


ilii! 


draw  a  map  of  Borneo,  for  instance,  you  would  find  that 
it  was  not  unlike  in  sha])e  the  United  Kingdom  of  (ireat 
Britain  and  Ireland,  but  vastly  lar<^er,  for  you  could  set 
England,  Scotland,  Ireland,  and  Wales  inside  of  Borneo,  and 
have  a  great  rim  of  green  trees  and  verdui'e  hundreds  of 
miles  wide  surrounding  that  mighty  little  kingdom. 

New  Guinea  is  })robahly  still  larger  than  Borneo,  though 
its  irregular  coasts  and  unex})lored  territory  nuike  it  difficult 
to  tell  to  a  certainty. 

Many  of  these  islands  are  under  Dutch  control,  and  very 
good  masters  on  the  whole  do  Dutchmen  nudce.  It  would 
be  difficult  to  know  what  the  doughty  little  kingdom  behind 
the  dikes  would  do  were  it  not  for  these  spice  islands  of  the 
South  seas,  where  it  coins  gold  out  of  nutmegs  and  cloves, 
cinnamon  and  allspice. 

The  island  of  Banda  is  the  greatest  nutmeg  region  of  the 
world,  barring  Connecticut,  and  many  years  ago  the  Dutch 
attempted  to  secure  a  monoply  of  this  product  by  cutting 
down  the  nutmeg  trees  on  the  other  islands  where  they 
grew  naturally,  in  order  that  they  might  be  confined  to 
Banda,  Avhere  the  monopoly  could  be  protected, 

Nutmeg  trees  are  very  symmetrical  in  shape,  with  bright 
glossy  leaves.  They  grow  to  a  height  of  twenty  or  thirty 
feet,  bearing  small  yellow  flowers.  The  fruit  looks  much 
like  a  peach  in  size  and  color.  When  it  is  ripe  it  splits  open 
and  shows  a  dark  brown  nut  within.  Still,  we  have  not  got 
to  the  nutmeg  itself.  The  fruit  is  like  a  nest  of  Chinese 
boxes,  for  within  the  thin  hard  shell  which  is  now  disclosed 
is  the  nutmeg  of  commerce. 

Towards  evening  of  the  third  day  from  Port  Darwin  we 
passed  between  the  great  islands  of  Ceram  on  one  side  and 
Bouro  on  the  other.  Nestling  in  the  lee  of  Ceram  is  the 
little  island  of  Amboyna,  which  contains  one  of  the  oldest 


m 


THE   MALAYAN   AND   THE    E'APL'AN. 


i:vj 


European  settlements  in  the  South  seas.  Here  the  Dutch 
governor  is  Lord  of  all  he  surveys,  and  is  only  disturbed 
in  his  solitude  by  a  few  vessels  that  come  on  their  spice- 
laden  errands  once  or  twice  a  vear. 

The  inhabitants  of  these  islands  may,  in  a  general  way, 
be  divided  into  two  great  types,  the  Malayan  and  the 
rai)uan.  A  rough  classification  gives  the  eastern  islands  to 
the  Papuan  races;  the  western,  which  lie  nearer  to  China 
and  India,  to  the  Malayan  races.  The  Malay  has  been 
described  as  of  "short  stature,  brown-skinned,  straight- 
haired,  beardless,  and  smooth-bodied.  The  Pa})uan  is  taller, 
is  black-skinned,  frizzly-haired,  branded,  and  hairy-bodied. 
The  former  is  broad-faced,  has  a  small  nose,  and  flat  eye- 
brows ;  the  latter  is  long-faced,  has  a  large  and  prominent 
nose  and  flat  eye-brows.  The  JVEalay  is  bashful,  cold,  un- 
demonstrative, and  quiet;  the  Papuan  is  bold,  impetuous, 
excitable,  and  noisy.  The  former  is  grave  and  seldom 
laughs ;  the  latter  is  joyo\is  and  laughter-loving  —  the  one 
conceals  his  emotions,  the  other  displays  them." 

Perhaps  this  epigrammatic  description  by  one  who  spent 
many  years  among  these  islands  will  serve  to  introduce  our 
neighbors  on  either  side  of  the  Chlmjtu  to  my  readers, 
better  than  any  words  of  mine. 

There  is  little  need  to  describe  the  clothes  of  either  of 
these  neighbors,  for  they  seldom  consult  Paris  modes  or  New 
York  tailors.  A  friend  of  mine  who  once  lived  in  New 
Guinea  was  consulted  by  a  tailor  of  London  as  to  whether 
there  would  not  be  a  good  opening  for  a  man  of  his  craft  in 
that  great  island.  ]\[y  friend  replied  that  a  ball  of  twine 
would  afford  ample  clothing  for  half  a  century  for  all  the 
natives  on  the  island,  and  he  could  scarcely  encourage  the 
knight  of  the  goose  and  the  shears  to  remove  from  the 
capitol  of  cockneydom. 


't  , 


uo 


EXTRAORDINARY    HEADOEAR. 


II 


*     ■  ' 


^■■v' 


The  story  is  told  of  a  bridof^n'ooni  who  was  presented  on 
his  W('d(lin<;^-day  with  a  pair  of  European  trousers.  In  the 
exuberance  of  Iiis  early  love,  he  presented  them  to  his  bride, 
who  ap[)eared  at  the  weddin*^  ceremony,  heated  and  per- 
spiring, with  the  trousers  drawn  on  as  far  as  possible  over 
her  liead,  while  the  legs  hung  down  like  two  huge,  hollow 
tails,  on  either  side. 

For  my  part  I  do  not  see  the  necessar}'  connection  of 
Euro})ean  clothes  and  European  civilization.  The  nations 
can  be  civilized  and  cliristianized  just  as  (juickly,  I  believe, 
while  allowed  to  wear  their  native  costume,  a  loose  piece 
of  cloth  tucked  about  the  waist,  as  when  arrayed  in  "  boiled 
shirts  "  and  swallow-tailed  coats. 

The  only  grotesque  and  ridiculous  natives  I  have  seen, 
are  those  who  ape  European  costumes  and  try  to  combine  in 
a  most  laughable  way  New  York  and  SoutL  Sea  Island 
fashions. 

The  islands  between  which  "we  are  continually  passing, 
and  whose  sides  we  almost  graze  at  times,  abound  in  bright 
plunuiged  birds,  parrots  and  paroquets,  lyre  birds  and  birds 
of  paradise  of  every  imaginable  lovely  hue. 

Beasts  of  prey  are  not  very  common,  though  tigers  and 
orang-outangs  are  found  in  some  of  the  large  islands,  and 
huge  crocodiles  abound  in  many  of  them.  Snakes,  however, 
are  numerous  and  venomous,  and  a  sharp  lookout  must  be 
kept  by  the  traveler,  lest  that  innocent-looking  fallen  limb, 
on  which  he  is  abcrut  to  put  his  foot,  proves  to  be  a  huge 
python  or  boa  constrictor. 

A  famous  naturalist  tells  a  gruesome  story  about  a  great 
snake  which  he  found  in  the  thatciied  roof  directly  over  his 
head  one  morning  as  he  awoke.  He  had  heard  a  rustling 
noise  the  night  before  but  paid  little  attention  to  it.  The 
next  morning,  however,  the  cause  of  the  noise  was  revealed. 


a-i: 


LkL 


A  SNAKE  STORY. 


141 


for,  "  looking  more  carefully,"  he  says,  "  I  could  see  yellow 
and  black  marks  and  thought  it  must  Ik)  a  tortoise  shell  put 
up  there  out  of  the  way  between  the  ridge-pole  and  the  roof. 
Continuing  to  gaze,  it  suddenly  resolvetl  itself  into  a  largo 
snake,  compactly  coiled  up  in  a  knot;  and  I  could  detect  his 
head  and  his  bi-ight  eyes  in  the  very  center  of  the  folds. 

"  A  python  had  climbed  up  one  of  the  posts  of  the  house; 
liad  made  his  way  under  the  thatch  within  a  yard  of  my 
head,  and  taken  up  a  comfoi-table  position  in  the  roof,  and  I 
had  slept  soundly  all  night,  directly  under  him. 

"I  called  to  my  two  native  'boys'  who  were  skinning 
birds  below,  and  sjiid,  '  Here's  a  big  snake  in  the  roof;  but 
as  soon  as  I  had  shown  it  to  them  they  rushed  out  of  the 
house  and  begged  me  to  come  out  at  once, 

"Finding  they  were  too  much  alarmed  to  do  anything, 
we  called  some  of  the  laborers  in  the  plantation,  and  soon 
had  half-a-dozen  men  in  consultation.  One  of  these  said  he 
would  get  him  out,  and  Avent  to  work  in  a  business-like  way. 

"  lie  made  a  strong  noose  of  rattan,  and  with  a  long  pole 
])oked  at  the  snake,  which  then  began  slowly  to  uncoil  itself. 
He  then  managed  to  get  the  noose  over  its  head,  and  slip- 
l)ing  it  well  over  its  body  began  to  drag  the  animal  down. 

"  There  was  a  great  scuffle  as  the  snake  coiled  round  the 
chains  and  ])osts  to  resist  his  enemy,  but  at  length  the  man 
caught  hold  of  his  tail,  rushed  out  of  the  house  so  quickly 
tliat  the  creature  seemed  (piite  confounded,  and  tried  to 
strike  its  head  against  a  tree.  He  missed  it,  however,  and 
let  go,  and  the  snake  g')t  imder  a  dead  trunk  near  by.  It 
was  again  poked  out,  and  again  the  man  caught  hold  of  its 
tail,  and  running  away  quickly  dashed  its  head  with  a  swing 
against  a  tree,  and  it  was  then  easily  killed  Avith  a  hatchet. 

"It  was  about  twelve  feet  long  and  very  thick,  quite 
capable  of  swallowing  a  dog  or  child." 


14:> 


WHERE   EVERY    PROSPECT    PLEASES. 


■i  ■' 


I'ut  this  pvtlioii  was  only  a  l)al»y  comparctl  with  another 
which  this  sanio  veracious  naturalist  saw  a  little  later,  which 
Avas  not  loss  than  twenty  IVot  lon«^,  and  fully  able  to  tackle 
an  ox  or  a  horse  if  it  got  the  cliance. 

It  wt)ul(l  scarcely  be  ]H'()|)er  to  sail  through  this  serpent- 
infested  region  without  telling  at  least  one  snake  story,  but 
the  above,  vouched  for  l)y  the  highest  authority,  will  per- 
haps sutflce. 

After  a  twenty-four  hours'  run  across  a  coni})aratively 
open  ])iece  of  water  we  passed  between  the  Spanish  convict 
island  of  ^[andanao  on  one  side,  and  Basilan  on  the  other. 
On  the  other  side  of  this  passage  we  found  the  oi)eii  waters 
of  the  Sulu  sea  awaiting  us,  and  then,  coasting  U})  the  kmg 
shore  of  the  Philippine  islands,  we  have  come  at  length  out 
into  tlie  rough  waters  of  the  China  sea,  and  are  striking 
across  this  much-dreaded  ])assage  to  the  j)ort  of  Hong  Kong. 

All  these  islands  which  we  ])ass  are  famous  for  their 
spicy  tropical  ])ro(lucts. 

"The  spicy  breezes"  blow  soft  not  only  over  Ceylon's 
isle,  but  across  Cei'am  and  Bouro,  Banda  and  Amboyna, 
Mandanao  and  Basilan. 

Every  ])ros]>ect  ])leases  and  even  man  is  by  no  means  as 
vile  as  he  was  a  hundred  years  ago,  for  the  missionary  is 
abroad  in  most  of  these  islands,  tiie  natives  have  responded 
most  readily  to  liis  kindly  touch,  and,  in  many  cases,  whole 
islands  are  Christianized  and  are  occupied  In'  res})ect;»ble, 
God-fearing,  church-going  races.  Even  the  degradation 
which  nsually  follows  in  the  wake  of  commerce  has  not  been 
entirely  able  to  drag  down  these  sim])le  natives  to  the  level 
of  their  white  conquerors,  and  the  most  godless  trader  who 
knows  what  he  is  talking  about  can  sometimes  be  found  who 
will  acknowledge  that  tlie  missionarv  lias  transformed  manv 
a  barbarous  tribe  of  cannibals  into  an  intelligent  })eople, 


WHAT  CHRISTIANITY   HAS   DONE. 


ii;{ 


livin<^  in  orderly  villap's;  in  pleasant,  wiiitewaslicd  houses, 
with  flowering  vines  growing  over  the  eool  verandas. 
Moreover,  in  sonies  places  good  I'oads  and  careful  cultivation 
of  the  soil  are  found,  all  due  to  races  that  have  emerged 
fi'otn  the  lowest  harbai-isni  witiiin  the  meniorv  of  living 
men. 

I  Avould  like  to  take  some  of  the  shallow  worldlings 
whom  I  have  seen  elevate  their  tip-tilted  noses  at  missions, 
and  whom  I  have  heard  sneer  at  every  etTort  to  make  the 
heathen  better,  I  would  like  to  take  them,  1  say,  to  some 
of  the  beautiful,  orderly  villages  of  ('elebes,  and  stop  their 
jirofano  lips  with  a  sight  of  what  Christianity  actuallyhas 
done  and  is  doing  for  these  savages.  I  am  doubtful  if  even 
this  vision  would  do  much  good.  Such  men  and  women  are 
too  densely  wra])pe(l  up  in  their  impenetrable  conceit  to  be 
disturbed  by  facts  or  figures,  or  convinced  even  by  that 
which  their  own  eves  miyht  observe.  Thev  would  not  be- 
lieve  "though  one  rose  from  the  dead." 

Most  of  these  islands,  though  nominally  under  the  pro- 
tection and  control  of  different  Eurojjcan  powers,  to  which 
they  are  obliged  to  ])ay  some  small  tribute,  are  still  jn'acti- 
cally  under  the  power  of  these  native  chiefs  and  ])rinces,  some 
of  whose  dynasties  run  back  for  many  generations. 

A  good  story  is  told  by  the  naturalist  Wallace  of  the 
way  in  which  one  of  these  native  chiefs  took  the  census  of 
his  unsus])ecting  subjects. 

It  seems  that  this  chief  or  Rajah  relied  for  his  revenues 
ii|)on  the  rice  tax  which  each  one  of  his  people  in  all  the 
villages  of  his  domain  was  supposed  to  pay  into  his  treasury 
every  year.  But  he  soon  became  convinced  that  his  under 
officers  were  not  treating  him  fairly,  and  that  a  good  deal  of 
the  rice  which  ought  to  have  found  its  way  into  the  treasury 
of  the  Rajah  was  stop})ed  on  the  way,  either  by  the  Kapala 


U4      COMMUNING  WITH   THE   SPIRIT   OP  THE   VOLCANO. 


Kiiiupong,  tlio  liead  man  of  the  village,  or  by  the  "VVaidono 
who  is  over  the  district,  or  by  tiie  (lustis  or  head  chief,  who 
received  the  rice  from  the  Waidono. 

Hut  the  Rajah  ccjuld  not  prove  the  peculations,  because 
lie  did  not  know  how  many  people  there  were  in  his  domain, 
and  he  could  not  toll  how  many  peo})le  there  were  unless  ho 
took  a  census,  and  lie  could  not  take  a  census  without  ])utting 
all  the  under  otficers  on  their  guard,  for  they  would  be  sure  to 
make  the  number  t)f  people  in  their  districts  correspond  with 
the  amount  of  rice  which  they  turned  over  to  His  Majesty. 
So  his  problem  was  to  take  a  census  without  having  the 
peoj)le  who  Avei'o  enumerated  know  anything  about  it. 

The  })oor  llajah  was  at  his  wit's  end.  He  smoked  and 
chewed  betel  nut  all  day  long,  and  still  was  no  nearer  to 
the  desired  solution.  At  length,  however,  a  bright  idea 
struck  him.  He  would  go  u\)  into  the  great  mountain  of 
T  onibock  that  belched  out  fire  and  vapor,  and  consult  the 
cieity  of  the  mountain,  for  it  was  in  the  old  days  of  heathen 
superstition  and  heathen  worslii[).  The  awe-struck  ])eople 
followed  him  part  way  u})  the  volcano,  and  then  they  dared 
to  go  no  further.  Hut  the  llajah  })ressed  on  up  into  the 
region  of  perpetual  smoke,  and  here  he  stayed  for  a  long*^ 
while,  communing  with  the  Great  Spirit  of  the  mountain. 

AVhen  his  ])eo})le  who  were  waiting  about  the  base  of  the 
mountain  began  to  be  tlioroughly  uneasy  about  their  chief, 
he  a])peared  again  among  them,  and  told  them  in  solemn 
tones  that  the  Great  S})irit  had  revealed  to  him  that  a  time 
of  terrible  pestilence  was  coming,  and  that  the  only  way  to 
avert  the  pestilence  was  to  make  twelve  sacred  krisses  or 
daggers,  to  be  sent,  in  case  of  need,  to  the  plague-stricken 
villages.  Moreover,  these  krisses  must  be  of  a  peculiar  kind, 
made  of  a  great  number  of  needles,  each  needle  represent- 
ing one  man  or  woman  or  child  in  his  domain. 


THE  TELLTALE  NEEDLES. 


145 


There  must  be  no  mistake,  either,  in  tlie  number  of 
needles,  for,  if  tliere  was,  the  krisses  would  not  avail,  and 
the  plague  could  not  be  averted. 

So  the  Gusti  and  the  AV^aidonos  and  the  Kapala  Kam- 
pongs  went  to  work  very  busily  to  collect  in  their  different 
villages  a  needle  from  every  man,  woman,  and  child  in  all 
of  Lombock,  and  they  were  very  careful  not  to  make  any 
mistake,  for  fear  the  kris  Avould  not  work  ])roperly.  At 
length  the  needles  were  all  collected,  and  were  wekled  into 
l)right,  shining  daggers  before  the  llajah's  own  eyes,  and 
then  carefully  wrap[)eil  in  silk  and  laid  away  for  use  against 
the  time  of  pestilence. 

The  pestilence  did  not  come,  however,  but  the  time  of 
the  rice  harvest  did  come;  and  when  only  a  small  quantity 
of  rice  was  presented  by  any  Gustis,  the  Rajah  mildly  re- 
marked that  ''there  Avere  five  thousand  needles  sent  from 
your  ]m)vince,  aiul  it  ought  to  yiekl  far  more  rice  than 
this."  Then  the  Gustis  saul  the  same  thing  to  his  AVaidonos, 
and  the  Waidonos  repeated  the  renuirk  to  the  Kapala  Kam- 
])ongs;  and  the  result  was  that  the  following  year  the  llajali 
had  four  times  as  much  rice  as  ever  before,  and  he  was  able 
to  give  all  his  Avives  beautiful  earrings,  and  to  buy  many 
more  black  horses  from  the  whitG-skinned  Dutchmen  than 
ever  in  the  past  —  all  by  reason  of  the  remarkable  interview 
he  had  with  the  Great  8i)irit  in  the  mountain  that  sent  out 
fh"e  and  smoke. 

I  have  spoken  already  of  the  hunuin  passengers  of  the 
Ch'nujtu,  —  the  Chinamen,  and  Malays,  Jews,  Christians,  and 
IJushmen.  Besides  these,  we  have  some  dumb  passengers 
who  are  quite  as  interesting  in  their  way.  Among  them  a. 
flock  of  merino  shee[)  that  were  unceremoniously  tied  to- 
gether by  their  four  legs  and  bundled  overboard  into  a 
lighter  at  Thursday  Island ;  a  dog  Avliose  master,  the  cattle- 


140 


OUR   DUMB   PASSENGERS. 


drover,  was  taking  into  the  bush  to  herd  sheep  and  fight 
the  Bhicks. 

]iiit,  poor  fellow,  he  scarcely  held  up  his  head  after  com- 
ing aboard.  A  kick  or  bruise  of  some  kind  just  before  em- 
barkation had  injui'ed  him  internally.  He  bore  his  pain, 
which  was  evidently  intense,  without  a  whimper  or  a  groan 
for  seven  days,  and  on  the  eighth  day  turned  his  patient, 
affectionate  eyes  upon  his  master  with  a  look  of  trustful  love 
for  the  last  time  —  and  died. 

"  I  can't  bear  to  go  aft  any  more  where  my  poor  dog 
lay,"  said  the  cattle-drover,  and  I  didn't  wonder. 

Besides  the  dog  and  sheep,  Ave  had,  at  the  beginning,  sev- 
eral specimens  of  the  feline  tribe.  Two  or  three  forlorn 
little  kittens  haunted  the  steerage  belonging  to  the  China- 
men. For  two  or  three  days  they  prowled  disconsolately 
about,  evidently  aware  of  the  fate  that  awaited  them,  and 
then  they  mysteriously  disappeared,  leaving  no  trace  behind. 
The  gastronomic  Chinanum  could,  perhaps,  have  explained 
their  disappearance,  for  all  is  soup  that  comes  to  his  pot. 

But  besides  these  wretched,  woe-begone  little  kittens,  we 
had  on  board  a  magnificent,  stately,  tortoise-shell  cat,  as 
handsome  a  pussy  as  ever  tr(xl  a  ship's  quarter  deck.  He 
would  watch  the  second-class  passengers  at  their  meals  in  a 
very  dignified  way,  and  would  even  accept  a  gratuity  from 
their  hands  in  the  shape  of  a  savory  titbit,  once  in  a  while. 
He  would  jump  through  our  extended  arms,  and  do  every 
trick  that  a  well-educated  pussy  is  su])posed  to  know.  One 
evening  the  northeast  monsoon  was  blowing  a  stiff  gale,  and 
had  s])attered  u)i  the  salt  spray  until  every  rail  was  wet  and 
sli})pery.  Tommy  was  unusually  frisky.  He  jumped  from 
spar  to  hatchway,  ran  up  the  rigging,  and  worked  off  his 
high  spirits  in  every  way  known  to  a  cat.  But,  alas !  he 
jumped  once  too  often,  for  leaping  from  the  hatch  to  the 


A   TRAGEDY   ON   ELECTION  DAY, 


147 


guard  rail,  he  lost  his  balance,  clawed  for  a  moment  help- 
lessly at  the  wet,  slippery  wooil,  and  fell  off  into  the  engulf- 


ing sea. 


It  is  hoped  that  some  passing  shark  cut  short  his  misery, 
and  that  he  Avas  not  obliged  to  struggle  for  hours  with  the 
waves,  drowning  by  inches. 

That  day  was  Election  day  in  the  United  States.  The 
mighty  quadrennial  struggle  between  the  two  great  parties 
was  being  decided  as  the  hours  went  by.  To  the  English- 
men, Australians,  and  Chinese,  who  made  up  our  passenger 
list,  this  struggle  Avas  absolutely  uninteresting.  Though  it 
affects  the  lives  of  nearly  seventy  millions  of  people,  it  did 
not  create  as  much  excitement  as  the  death  of  a  tortoise-shell 
cat.  Such  is  the  relative  importance  of  an  event.  So  de- 
pendent is  it  on  geography  and  ethnography. 

Our  captain  Iiad  a  vague  idea  that  one  or  the  other  of 
the  leading  candidates  had  before  been  nominated  for  elec- 
tion. When  I  explained  that  one  of  the  candidates  Avas  then 
president,  and  the  other  had  held  that  office,  he  Avas  quite 
amazed,  but  remarked :  "  Oh,  aa'cII,  hit  Avont  make  much 
liodds,  I  suppose,  they're  both  proper  rascals." 

I  resented  the  imputation  against  these  excellent  and 
honorable  men  Avith  the  utmost  AA^armth,  and  yet  it  is  of 
little  use  to  Avax  hot,  for  the  ingrained  and  unremovable 
British  opinion  of  American  politics  is,  that  all  our  politicians 
are  rogues  and  knaves.  I  scarcely  Avonder  at  this,  for  the 
British  press  does  its  utmost  to  foster  this  impression,  and 
our  oAvn  sensational  journals,  Avith  their  scurrilous  attacks 
on  public  men,  only  strengthens  the  same  impression. 

Three  days  more  Avith  this  gentle  monsoon  blowing 
across  the  Avide  China  Sea  Avill  bring  us  to  Hong  Kong,  and 
then  the  cruise  of  the  Chingtu  Avill  be  ended. 


CHAPTER  YIII. 

rmST  GLIMPSES  OF  THE  CELESTIAL  EMPIRE. 

Cosmopolitan  Hong  Kong  —  The  Cabmen  of  the  Orient  —  A  I?idc  in  a 
Sedan  Chair  —  Uplifted  in  Spirit  —  Sidewalk  Shops  —  Pennsylvania  Oil 
in  China  —  Fairyland  under  the  Lanterns  —  Incense  Olferings  to  the 
Gods  —  Novel  Sights  and  Scenes  —  Oriental  Sharpers  —  Unblushing 
Swindlers  — Toboggan  Sliding  —  All  Aboard  for  Canton  —  Justice 
Swift  and  Severe  —  Executions  in  China  —  Heads  Chopped  off  with 
Neatness  and  Despatch  —  The  River  Go<l  at  the  Prow — The  Fats/i<tn — 
River  Robbers  and  Pirates  —  A  Floating  Arsenal  —  The  Rice  Harvest  — 
Threshing  Out  the  Rice  —  "Chinaman  Makee  Glow"  —  Three  Crops  in 
a  Season  —  Water  Buffaloes — Christianity  and  Butter  —  Up  the  Pearl 
River  — Junks  and  Flower  Boats,  Sampans  and  Slipper  Boats  —  The 
High  Road  of  Canton  —  A  Novel  Pontoon  Bridge  —  A  Family  Picture 
—  Cantonese  Jade  —  Off  in  a  Sampan. 


UST  as  the  sun  was  setting  after 
a  gray  and  turbulent  day,  the 
Chingtu  reached  the  outer  har- 
bor of  Hong  Kong.  The  waning 
light  held  out  barely  long  enough 
to  discover  our  anchorage  ground. 
What  a  sight  was  the  first  glimpse 
of  life  in  Asia!  On  the  Hong 
Kong  shore  were  thousands  of 
twinkling  lights,  reaching  far  up 
the  hillside.  The  magnificent 
warehouses  and  residences  of  the 
foreign  merchants  give  it  the  appearance  of  a  modern  city,  as 
indeed  it  is,  but,  together  with  this  modern  and  cosmo])olitan 
air  is  mingled  the  antiquity  of  the  far  East.     On  every  side 

were  Chinese  junks,  whose  style  is  the  same  as  in  the  days  of 

(148) 


ASIATIC  SIGHTS  AND  SOUNDS. 


140 


the  Mayfower,  of  the  J*i/it(i,  and  the  jVaia ;  the  same 
in  fact  as  when  the  Roman  galleys  vexed  the  waters  of 
the  Mediterranean. 

Little  boats,  too,  sampans  and  still  smaller  row-boats, 
swarmed  about  the  C/ihu/tK.  As  it  was  now  growing 
dark  they  were  all  illumined  with  Chinese  lanterns  of  every 
variety  of  style  and  slia})e,  and  yells  and  cries,  and  invita- 
tions from  the  occupants  to  take  their  boat  to  the  shore, 
reminded  us  of  the  vociferous  cabbies  at  the  Grand  Central 
Station  in  New  York.  But  there  was  little  else  to  remind 
us  of  New  York.     "We  had  indeed  reached  the  Orient. 

Taking  a  steam-launch  sent  out  by  the  Hong  Kong 
Hotel  we  were  soon  on  shore.  Then  all  the  sights  and 
sounds,  to  say  nothing  of  the  smells,  reminded  us  that  we 
were  on  Asiatic  soil.  A  crowd  of  jinrikisha  and  sedan  chair 
men  besieged  us  on  every  side.  A  throng  of  half-naked 
coolies  jabbered  and  crowded  and  fought  with  each  other 
and  insisted  on  being  our  porters.  But,  though  it  required 
some  rough  usage  on  the  part  of  the  hotel  porters,  we  at  last 
escaped  their  clutches  and  reached  the  hotel,  which  is  but 
a  few  steps  from  the  landing.  A  European  hotel,  however, 
was  altogether  too  commonplace  an  affair  to  engage  our 
attention  for  any  leii  ,tli  of  time,  and  after  Ave  had  taken 
a  hasty  dinner  we  were  soon  upon  the  street  again. 

Will  vou  not  go  out  with  us  Avhile  Ave  view  these  unac- 
customed  sights  ? 

Now  again  as  Ave  step  out  of  the  liotel  door,  there  is  a 
great  hubbub  and  hullaballoo,  for  scores  of  chair-men  and 
jinrikisha-men  rush  upon  us  as  their  right  and  hiAvful  prey. 
Let  us  take  a  chair  this  evening  since  it  is  more  in  accord- 
ance Avitli  the  genius  of  the  country.  The  jinrikisha  is  a 
Japanese  institution  and  a  A^ery  recent  importation  into 
China,  and  AA-e  Avill  patronize  home  industries. 


¥■ 


i^ 


"^ 


;«  ;:! 


f»,  fi 


lit.    "  '^ 


150 


THE  BURDEN  BEARERS. 


80,  Avitli  muiiy  polite  '••esturos  and  o'onufloctions  on  the 
])iu't  of  our  bearers,  wc  crawl  into  one  of  the  little  l)oxes. 
take  our  seats,  and  are  immediately  hoisted  uj)on  the 
shoulders  of  three  stalwart  coolies,  two  in  front  and  <jne  be- 
hind. The  skin  on  their  accustomed  necks  is  hardened  and 
calloused  by  nniny  such  loads  which  they  have  borne,  and  at 
first  a  feeling  of  great  compassion  and  pity  for  them  arises 
in  our  hearts,  as  though  Ave  were  treating  human  beings  as 
Ave  Avould  treat  a  horse  or  an  ox.  We  almost  feel  as  though 
we  ought  to  step  down  from  our  exalted  position  and  apolo- 
gize to  the  bearers  for  loading  them  doAvn  as  Ave  Avould 
''  dumb,  driven  cattle."  But,  after  all,  the  sensible  traveler 
reasons  Avith  himself,  this  is  an  honorable  and  reputable  Avay 
of  earning  a  living.  Xo  opprobrium  or  disgrace  attaches  to 
the  palanquin-man.  He  would  bear  the  people  of  his  own 
race  and  station  in  society  as  quickly  as  he  Avould  bear  the 
Emperor,  and  Avould  liaA^e  no  sense  of  degradation.  It 
aifords  a  great  multitude,  Avho  perhai)s  Avould  otherAvise 
starve,  an  excellent  living.  So  Ave  Avill  dismiss  our  scruples 
and  enjoy  the  novel  sights  around  us. 

Then,  perhaps,  so  sharp  are  the  revulsions  of  feeling  in 
weak  liuman  nature,  one  -begins  to  have  a  Avealthy  and 
lordly  feeling,  as  though  he  Avere  being  borne  through  the 
streets  on  the  shoulders  of  an  admiring  crowd  because  of 
some  great  achievement.  However,  the  throngs  are  not 
very  demonstrative  in  their  adnliration,  for  they  take  no 
more  notice  of  you  than  a  New  York  crowd  Avould  take  of  a 
Broadway  street-car.  In  fact,  Ave  who  are  perched  up  in 
these  chairs  are  far  more  interested  in  the  croAvds  beneath 
than  they  are  in  us,  for  foreigners  are  no  novelty  in  Hong 
Kong. 

Let  us  go  down  to  the  Chinese  quarter  and  get  out  of 
this  humdrum  Euroi)ean  life  as  soon  as  ])ossible.     It  does 


OUT-OF-DOOR   AVOCATIONS. 


151 


f 


not  take  us  lon<^  to  do  this,  for  there  ure  only  eight  thou- 
sand foreigners  in  tlie  city  and  some  two  luindred  thousand 
natives.  Everytlung  is  of  interest  to  our  unaccustomed  eyes. 
But  we  must  record  our  imi)ressions  (quickly  before  custom 
(hills  the  edge  of  amazement,  or  it  will  seem  as  though  we 


A    CIIINKRK    FOnOE. 

had  always  lived  in  the  midst  of  these  sights,  and  shall  not 
be  able  to  describe  them  with  any  vividness  to  our  friends  at 
home. 

The  first  thing  that  sti'ikes  us  as  strange  is,  tuat  every- 
thing is  done  out-of-doors.  The  shoemaker  cobbles  his 
shoes  ;  the  fish  merchant  peddles  his  lish  ;  the  cabinet-nudvcr 
lits  together  his  chest  of  drawers;  the  tailor  shoves  his 
needle;  the  carpenter  draws  his  ]ilane  (toward  himself  in 
genuine  Chinese  style),  but  all  upon  the  sidewalk  as  it 
soems.      There  are,  to  be  sure,   small  recesses   which   are 

10 


i-i' 


15-> 


LANTERNS  AND  INCENSE. 


"f  : 


called  stores  and  slioj)s,  but  they  are  very  diminutive  and 
scarcely  seem  necessary  to  the  carryin<j  on  of  business. 

Over  every  shop  door  hangs  a  ])ai)er  lantern,  some  of 
them  huge  affairs  as  big  as  small  balloons,  others  more  mod- 
est in  size,  while  here  and  there  one  sees  a  vulgar  kerosene 
lamp.  It  is  said  that  the  oil  wells  of  Pennsylvania  are  driv- 
ing the  old-fashioned  lanterns  out  of  the  market.  All  who 
desire  picturesqueness  of  effect  will  certainly  regret  this,  for 
there  is  nothing  Avhicli  gives  the  streets  such  a  charming, 
fairy-like  effect  as  the  Chinese  lanterns,  painted  in  every  hue 
of  the  rainbow,  and  twisted  into  every  conceivable  shape. 

Not  only  has  every  shop  its  lantern,  but  every  shop  has 
its  shrine  as  well,  and  the  smell  of  burning  incense  pervades 
the  air  wherever  we  go.  This  is  rather  fortunate,  i)erhaps, 
for  it  obscures  certain  other  odors  which  are  not  so  pleasant. 
If  you  look  closely,  even  in  the  darkness  of  this  first  even- 
ing's ride,  j'ou  will  see  a  stick  of  incense  burning  beside 
every  doorway,  the  little  spot  of  fire  at  the  end  glowing  like 
a  tiny  jewel  in  the  night.  These  are  all  offered  to  the  gods 
of  prosperity  and  good  luck  in  the  hope  that  the  business 
ventures  carried  on  within  will  turn  out  successfully. 

But  after  all,  novel  as  are  the  sights  about  Ilong  Kong, 
it  is  one  of  the  least  interesting  cities,  in  many  respects,  in 
all  China.  It  is  too  much  Europeanized  to  afford  a  true  idea 
of  the  way  in  wdiich  the  natives  live  and  conduct  their  busi- 
ness. It  has  all  the  vices  of  a  city  in  the  far  East,  and  not 
all  its  virtues  by  any  means.  Ever^^thing  is  frightfully  dear 
at  the  European  stores,  and  in  this  free-trade  possession  of 
Great  Britain,  the  shop-keepers  will  unblushingly  charge  you 
four  or  five  times  as  much  as  an  article  is  worth  anywhere 
else.  The  hotel-keepers  will  fleece  you  out  of  your  last 
dollar  if  they  can.  Photographers  will  charge  you  as  much 
for  a  single  picture  as  would  buy  a  dozen  better  ones  in 


ASCENT  OP  VICTORIA   PEAK. 


153 


Japan ;  and  your  morning  ])a])er,  wliicli  will  cost  you  ten 
cents,  will  not  contain  a  farthing's  worth  of  ncAvs.  Nothing 
more  barren  and  meager  and  utterly  uninteresting  than  the 
Ilong  Kong  newspaper  has  it  been  my  lot  to  find  in  any 
part  of  the  civilized  or  uncivilized  Avorld.  Society  is  decid- 
edly "  fast,"  as  in  all  such  foreign  settlements,  and  were  it  not 
for  the  saving  salt  of  missionary  life  and  influence,  I  am  told 
by  those  who  know,  Ilong  Kong,  and  Yokohama  in  Japan, 
and  other  such  treaty  ports,  might  easily  out-rank  Sodom 
and  Gomorrah  and  the  Cities  of  the  Plain. 

There  is  one  place,  however,  which  we  must  visit  before 
leaving  Ilong  Kong  for  the  far  more  interesting  city  of 
Canton,  and  that  is  Victoria  Peak,  which  towers  up  for  a 
thousand  feet  or  more  directly  behind  the  city.  This  is  a 
beautiful,  conical  mountain,  exceedingly  steep  and  precipi- 
tous, but  the  way  up  has  been  made  easy  by  a  cog-Avheel 
railroad,  which  affords,  certainly,  the  most  abrupt  climb 
with  which  I  am  acquainted.  Far  steeper  than  the  Rigi  or 
the  Mt.  Washington  railroad  or  Pike's  Peak  is  the  railroad 
that  climbs  Victoria  Peak.  Nervous  women  sometimes 
grow  quite  hysterical  as  the  train  begins  to  move  up  an 
incline  steeper  than  the  roof  of  a  house.  But  the  railway  is 
managed  with  great  skill  and  with  every  precaution  to  insure 
safety,  and  there  has  never  been  here  any  loss  of  life,  so  far 
as  I  know. 

As  one  climbs  this  famous  mountain,  a  magnificent  pano- 
rama unfolds  before  him,  of  city  and  sea,  of  embracing 
mountains  and  yet  higher  distant  peaks.  Every  view  is  a 
little  more  entrancing  than  the  last,  until  one  stands  at  the 
very  summit.  Then,  on  every  hand,  is  a  landscape  which 
one  can  expect  to  see  but  seldom  in  a  lifetime.  Such  a  vast 
and  stupendous  combination  of  ocean  and  mountain  is  almost 
worth  a  stormy  journey  across  the  Pacific  to  behold. 


154 


BY   BOAT  TO  CANTON. 


'i|:i 


We  liave  readied  the  spot  near  the  toj)  where  the  rail- 
road stops,  and  where  oui"  foot-journey  begins,  unless  we 
choose  to  take  a  sedan-chair,  which,  for  thirty  cents,  will 
carry  us  to  the  to])nH)st  ])oint.  We  refused,  however,  to  he 
borne  up  this  uiagnillcent  mountain  in  any  sucli  ignominious 
way.  The  chair  is  all  very  well  for  level  ground,  or  for  get- 
ting through  the  crowded  streets;  but  the  true  mountain 
climber  would  feel  ashamed  of  himself  to  be  borne  aloft  on 
men's  shoulders  uj)  these  rugged  ])ati)s  as  long  as  ho  has  two 
good  legs  to  carry  him.  The  road,  though  very  steej),  is 
well  made,  and  affords  so  many  ex(piisite  views  from  every 
angle  and  turn  of  the  twenty  nunutes'  climb  to  the  })eak 
that  it  is  a  continual  delight. 

But  the  wind  is  blowing  shrewdly  from  the  top,  and  Ave 
do  not  linger  long,  even  tliougli  the  view  is  entrancing  ;  but 
soon  descend,  take  the  train  once  more,  and  in  eight  min- 
utes slip  down  this  tremendous  toboggan-slide  on  to  level 
ground  again. 

To-morrow  morning  we  will  take  the  river-boat  for  Can- 
ton, a  journey  of  about  one  hundred  miles,  and  one  which 
affords  us  vast  delight.  The  steamers  on  the  Pearl  River 
are  excellent  side-wheel  boats,  not  unlike  the  best  river-boats 
in  America,  officered  by  Euro])eans,  though  manned  by 
Chinese  crews.  There  are  some  things  about  them,  how- 
ever, which  would  remind  us  that  we  are  still  in  China.  At 
the  prow  is  a  large  image  which  I  took  for  a  iigure-head,  but 
Avas  soon  informed  that  it  Avas  the  river-god,  who  must  be 
propitiated  eA-en  by  this  modern  steamshii)  company ;  so 
they  had  placed  his  obese  figure  in  a  little  shrine  at  the 
A'^ery  proAV  of  the  Fatshan. 

Looking  Avithin  the  cabin,  too,  we  see  a  stack  of  rifles, 
and  are  assured  by  the  Captain  that  they  are  necessary  in 
case  the  boat  should  be  attacked  by  the  river  pirates  —  a  not 


SkiS^ 


FLOATIN(}    ARSENALS. 


155 


inconceivable  iiTipossil)ility.  A  few  months  af^o  one  of  tlieso 
stoauKM's  was  captured  by  a  swarm  of  tliese  robbers,  wlio 
had  come  alioard  as  second-chiss  j)asscn<^('i's.  Th(;  otHccrs 
were  overpowered,  and  th(!  pass:en<^(M's  wei'e  shut  up  in  a 
tiylit  atid  close  cabin,  where  they  barely  had  air  enough  to 


A    CIIINESK    KXKCITION. 
(From  an  iiis/unlaneoiis  p/io/af/ta/ih.) 

keep  them  alive,  while  their  pocketbooks  were  rifled  and  the 
steamer  plundered  by  these  systematic  knaves  of  every  pos- 
sible thing  of  value.  Then  they  took  themselves  off,  mak- 
ing sure  that  thev  should  not  be  ]iursued  until  thev  had 
gotten  well  out  of  the  way.  Chinese  passengers  are  not 
now  allowed  in  the  first  cabin,  and  every  steamer  goes  well 
armed  with  a  small  arsenal  of  modern  weapons. 


'4 

i  . 


i: 


15(1 


CHINESE  EXECUTION. 


Swift  justice  is  dealt  out  to  Chinese  criminals,  antl  only 
a  siioit  time  elapses  after  sentence  before  the  head  of  the 
condemned  persoti  is  severed  from  the  bodv  by  a  single 
stroke  of  the  ex(>cutioner's  keen  sword. 

Prisoners  under  sentence  of  death  wear  bamboo  yokes 
when  they  arc;  taken  to  the  ])laco  of  execution.     The  head 


-  2.  ~ 


V%   '  i'\\ 


\U  r  .1    I 


PLACINU   TlIK   HKAD   OK   AN    F.XECUTEU    ClilMINAL    IN    A    1JA8KKT. 

(Frmn  an  inslantamous photoymph .) 

of  the  prisoner  is  placed  between  two  rigid  bamboo  bars, 
one  in  front  and  the  other  at  the  back  of  the  neck,  while 
two  shorter  bars  rest  across  the  shoulders  and  fasten  the 
long  side  bars  together.  The  headsman  accompanies  the 
procession  to  the  field  of  execution,  holding  hk'.  blade  aloft, 
followed  by  a  crowd  of  spectators.  The  execution  is  public, 
and  generally  takes  place  in  an  open  field  accessible  to  all. 


i; 

7  T 


?5    -J 


I    ?1 


TT 


rr 


mr-: 

'TUT 

i''l      -     K    • 

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1^2  i     Of'V.;-v.:.,:,,:,.,. 


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j'-!fea*i'K;      1 

('  ',  •  i  V'ft-.i"  ■            i 

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:  i;  7 

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tla^HHI  wAti  n 

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Mi ; 


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11 


UP  THE    I'KARI,   RIVER. 


159 


Tlio  pi'isoiu'i"  knoels,  heiuls  forward  a  trille,  bows  his  head, 
and  in  an  instant  till  is  ovoi*. 

Tiio  sail  u[)  tho  river  is  a  most  interestiii<^-  one,  I'ollowinf^ 
the  windings  of  the  great  sti'eani,  wliich  sometimes  broadens 
out  into  a  lalvc  nuUis  ui)on  miles  in  extent,  and  sometimes 


tool, IKS   ]'UMl'IN(i    WATKIl    KOH    ItICK    KIKLDS. 

narrows  again  with  frowning  |)eaks  clos(i  overhead.  Every- 
where are  the  s\\'jirming  villages  —  thirty  thousand,  1  am 
told,  in  a  singh^  province  —  each  one  occupied  by  from  one 
to  ten  thousand  people. 

The  !'ice  croj)  was  just  being  cut  as  wo  sailed  up  this 
noble  river,  and  down  to  tlu;  very  vei'ge  hung  the  riptMied 
grain   on  heavy  stalks.     This   was  the  second  crop  of  tho 


I  'i 

4: 


• 


'  lUO 


PKIMITIVE   METHOD   OF   HARVESTING. 


» ,'  ' 


Hi. 


I'll  it!' 


•r'l 


'  year,  and  laborers,  men  and  women,  were  busy  everywlu'i'e 
iuirvesting-  it  —  just  as  for  three  thousand  years  past,  per- 
haps, their  ancestors  had  luirvested  a  siniihir  crop.  After 
cutting  the  rice-straw  near  the  gi'ound  with  a  small  sickle 
■  and  piling  it  in  heaps,  they  grasp  a  good-sized  handful  of 
the  grain  and  thresh  out  the  rice  by  the  sim})le  process  of 
beating  the  heads  over  the  edge  of  a  stone  or  a  piece  of 
board  armed  with  iron  teeth.  A  little  screen  keeps  the  rice 
from  flying  far  in  any  direction,  and  on  both  sides  we 
could  see  hundreds  of  these  little  screens  and  these  ])rimitive 
harvesters  gathering  the  great  staple  crop  of  China. 

Wonderful  gardeners  are  these  Cantonese  in  any  part  of 
the  world.  Whether  in  America  or  Australia,  the  Sandwich 
Islands  or  on  their  own  native  heath,  they  can  coax  the 
ground  to  yield  to  them  what  she  would  never  give  U]) 
to  the  more  civilized  races,  Avho,  perhaps,  hjok  down  on 
them  as  ignorant  barbai'ians.  Even  in  tropical  Australia,  in 
the  dryest  of  the  dry  seasons,  they  can  make  things  grow  if 
only  water  can  be  had  with  which  to  drench  the  soil.  "  Me 
no  likee  lain,"  said  a  Chinaman  to  me ;  "  lainey  time  anyone 
laise  things ;  dly  time  only  Chinaman  makee  glow." 

But  here  along  the  banks  of  the  great  river  they  find 
not  only  ])lenty  of  water,  but  a  most  fertile  soil,  and  any 
Chinaman  who  does  not  get  at  least  three  crops  oif  of  every 
inch  of  land  which  he  possesses  is  thoroughly  ashamed  of 
liimself.  Two  crops  of  rice  and  one  of  vegetables  is  the 
regulation  thing,  while  some  farmers  force  even  four  cro})s 
every  year  from  the  same  piece  of  ground. 

Another  intei'esting  feature  of  the  landscape  is  the  huge 
water-butfaloes  which  love  to  wallow  along  the  banks  of  the 
river.  Tliev  look  more  like  the  rhinoceros  than  like  the 
buffalo  of  our  plains,  with  thick  welts  of  hairy  skin  hanging 
on  their  sides  and  legs.     However,  they  are  a  very  useful 


It- 


AT   THE   WHARF   IN   CANTON. 


IGl 


h 


aniniiil,  tliouf^li  rather  liidtM^us  in  appearance.  They  are 
em))loyed  in  plowing-  and  working  the  rice  fields,  and  afford 
an  excellent  milk  which  is  nsed  by  the  foreign  residents  ot 
Canton  and  vicinity,  where  there  are  no  cows.  The  Chinese 
themselves,  however,  after  they  arc  weaned,  have  no  use  for 
food  of  this  sort,  and  look  u]>on  the  rest  of  us,  I  suppose,  as 
])oor  "milk-sops"  for  demanding  it  on  our  tables  morning, 
noon,  and  night. 

Nor  can  thev  understand  how  we  find  it  difficult  to 
exist  without  butter  jind  cheese.  A  recently  converted 
Chinaman,  exphiining  to  his  neighbors  the  joys  of  Christian- 
ity, said  to  them,  "  Now  Christianity  is  not  like  butter,  for 
you  have  to  learn  to  like  that  before  you  can  eat  it.  It  is 
horrid  tasting  stuff  when  you  first  try  it,  and  you  can  only 
endure  it  after  a  good  many  efforts.  But  Christianity  is 
something  that  you  do  not  have  to  learn  to  like.  It  is  just 
as  good  the  first  time  you  taste  it  as  it  is  the  last."  A  good 
hint  here  for  public  speakers  to  adapt  their  illustrations  to 
the  people  who  listen  to  them. 

But  all  this  time  we  are  sailing  up  the  great  Pearl  river, 
with  its  interminaljle  rice  fields  and  its  clustering  villages 
nestling  behind  them  at  the  base  of  the  mountains. 

At  last  the  Fatiahan  reaches  her  wharf  in  Canton,  and 
we  find  ourselves  at  once  in  one  of  the  strangest  and  most 
remarkable  cities  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  Around  us  are 
swarming  junks  and  flower-boats,  sami)ans  and  sli{)per-boats 
of  all  sizes,  as  thickly  as  their  struggling  owners  can  crowd 
a1)out  the  Fatf<Jian. 

They  row  and  pole,  and  hook  on  to  their  neighbors  and 
grab  our  steamer's  chains  in  their  mad  and  eager  scramble 
to  get  some  passengers  or  freight  for  other  parts  of  the  city; 
for  this  great  river  is  the  lil'^li  road  for  all  Canton.  Fully 
seventy-five  thousand  people  live  in  these  boats  on  the  river 


tl>' 


1(,2 


HOME   LIFE  ON   A  SAMPAN. 


at  Canton  alone  all  the  year  round.  The  number  is  usually 
put  much  higher,  but  1  am  assuretl  that  this  is  a  very  mod- 
erate estinuite. 

As  the  steamer  is  being  tied  up  to  her  dock  let  us  peer 
over  into  one  of  these  little  boats  that  is  struggling  to  get 
near  us.  It  is  like  a  thousand  others  that  are  wedged 
so  closely  together  that  one  could  easily  walk  for  miles  over 
their  little  roofed  decks  without  getting  his  feet  wet.  It 
seems  like  a  continuous  pontoon  bridge,  though  none  of  the 
boats  are  tied  together,  and  all  are  strugghng  to  move  in 
some  direction  and  for  some  ])urpose. 

But  look  down  into  this  particular  sampan  Avhich  we 
have  chosen  to  interview.  A  brawny  woman  wields  a  long, 
heavy  oar  in  front.  She  is  evidently  captain,  first  officer, 
and  cook,  as  well  as  chief  engineer  of  the  little  craft.  On 
her  back  is  straj)pe(l  a  baby  whose  little  head  bobs  ami 
swavs  with  everv  motion  that  its  mother  makes  in  scullinij: 
the  boat.  The  handle  of  the  huge  sweep  which  she  uses  just 
escapes  the  top  of  his  bald  little  head.  Her  glossy  black 
hair  is  done  up  Avith  great  skill  and  neatness  into  the  shape 
of  a  "tea-pot  handle,"  as  a  little  boy  by  my  side  declares. 
Through  this  tea-pot  handle  is  stuck  a  green  jade  pin,  and  in 
both  ears  are  h;igo  jade  eai'rings.  Xo  woman  in  Canton 
seems  too  poor  to  afford  these  precious  jewels.  Of  all  the 
thousands  of  Avomen  of  high  grade  and  low  Avhoin  I  have 
seen  in  Canton,  I  scarcelv  remember  one  Avithout  the  na- 
tional  jade  ornaments. 

On  the  stern  of  this  little  craft  are  four  children,  one  boy 
of  eight  years  of  age,  Avho,  manly  little  fellow  that  he  is, 
assists  his  mother  with  an  oar  three  times  as  long  as  him- 
self. Another  boy  of  four  is  feeding  with  kernels  of  rice 
some  chickens  which  are  tied  by  the  leg  to  one  side  of  the 
boat.     Still  another  little  olive  branch  that  can  just  toddle. 


3i 


CLOSE  QUARTERS. 


1(53 


and  is  ])ossibly  two  years  old,  is  tied  by  a  string  to  the  roof 
of  the  deck,  which  allows  him  to  g-o  to  the  very  ed<rG  of  the 
boat,  but  insures  his  being  pulled  in  if  he  should  happen  to 
fall  overboard.  In  the  stern  of  the  boat  also  are  all  the 
culinary  arrangements  for  the  family ;  all  the  pots  and 
kettles  and  crockery  ware  and  chop-sticks  that  are  needed 
for  a  family  of  six.  Bohintl  the  kitchen  is  the  shrine,  and  as 
the  door  is  open  we  can  get  a  ])eep  within  at  tlie  gilded  god, 
who  is  sitting  complacently  on  his  haunches,  while  two 
sticks  of  incense  are  burning  before  him. 

In  the  center  of  the  boat,  covered  Avith  a  low  roof,  are 
seats  on  two  sides  for  five  or  six  [)assengers,  for  it  is  the  bus- 
iness of  this  family,  while  the  husband  is  at  work  on  shore, 
to  get  all  the  passengers  it  can  and  to  eke  out  their  living  in 
this  way.  I  must  fall  back  on  a  general  reputation  which  I 
trust  I  have  for  sobriety  and  truthfulness  when  I  tell  you 
that  this  boat  by  actual  measurement  is  only  fourteen  feet 
long  and  four  feet  wide  in  the  widest  part.  Even  this 
sampan  is  larger  than  many  others  which  crowd  about  our 
steamer's  sitle,  but  it  looks  so  clean  and  ro(jmy,  the  children 
look  so  good  natured,  and  the  mother  smiles  so  pleasantly, 
that  we  will  take  this  boat  and  give  the  woman  ten  cents  (a 
liberal  sum)  to  take  us  to  our  friends  some  two  miles  up  the 
river. 


I 


SiMm^ 


Mr 

If'''' 


bi 


I- 

If! 


\  (■■. 


If-  '-''■ 


HS'!.     1^ 


i«5 


ill 


1 

H 

1 

i*l"- 

i!  r 

1 1*" '  i 

pi'  r  i 

li 

CIIAPTEIl  IX. 

IN  CANTON  TIIK  CUOWDED  — CHINA  AND  TFTE  CHINESE. 
—  CUHIOUS  SCENES  AMONG  A  CURIOUS  PEOPLE  — IN 
THE   TEMPLE   OF   HOlM^OHS. 

All  ('mil,  Jr.  —  A  Courti-ous  niid  Faitlit'til  Guide  —  Aimless  Wandering  — 
The  nirthday  of  the  Fire  God  —  Turniiij^  out  for  a  Sedan  clmir —  Close 
Quarters  —  A  City  of  Temples — Streets  with  Odd  Xames — "Lon- 
gevity Lane  "  —  "  Heavenly  Peace  Street  "  —  A  Changing  I'anorama  — 
Outrageous  Odors — A  Pestilential  Plaee  without  Pestilence  —  A  Puz- 
zle for  our  Doctors  —  People  who  Never  Heard  of  a  I'iuinber — The 
Live  Fish  Market  —  Candy  Stands  —  How  Much  can  you  J>uy  for  a 
Cash?  —  Going  to  Market  in  Corea — A  Royal  Present  —  Juvenile 
Curiosity  — That  Little  "Foreign  Devil"  —  The  Cat  and  Dog  Meat 
StoH!  — The  Original  of  the  Willow  Pattern  — The  Five  Hundred 
IJuddhi.sts  —  Worshiping  tin;  Gods  of  Good  Luck  and  Prosjierity  — 
Business-like  Methods  of  Worship  —  The  Temple  of  Horrors  —  A 
Necklace  of  Teeth  —  Souk;  of  the  Tortures  —  Sawing  a  Mnn  in  Two  — 
Boiled  in  Oil  —  Punishments  of  the  Buddhist  Hell. 

,E  were  exceeding  fortuntito,  on  our 
arrival  at  Canton,  in  finding  the 
l)est  guide  it  has  ever  been  our 
good  fortune  to  secure.  ^Ir.  Ah 
Cum,  Jr.,  deserves  to  have  his 
name  ein])almed  in  history.  Just 
before  our  visit  a  famous  Ameri- 
can traveler  had  visited  the  same 
citv,  and  lie  wrote  in  the  guide's 
book,  (I  ht  Isaac  "Walton :  "  Doubt- 
less God  coidd  make  a  better 
guide  than  Ah  Cum,  Jr.,  but 
doubtless  he  never  did."  "VVe  feel  like  endorsing  this  com- 
mendation to  the  fullest  extent  after  spending  a  few  hours 
in  Ah  Cum's  society.  lie  not  only  knew  everything  in 
Canton,  but  could  speak  intelligent  English  to  explain  to  us 

(IGl) 


'II 

1' 


AN  ENDLESS  ARCADE. 


1G5 


Avluit  we  saw.  He  knew  how  to  kee]>  the  land  sharks  who 
sua])  at  every  innocent  traveler  away  from  us,  and  though 
he  tloubtless  piloted  us  to  stores  which  i)aid  him  a  good 
commission,  he  would  not  let  us  })ay  more  than  twice  what 
a  thing  was  worth,  even  to  his  friends. 

As  we  take  this  journey  through  Canton's  crowded 
streets,  the  three  pilgrims  require  sedan  chairs,  with  another 
one  for  Ah  Cum,  Jr. ;  but  in  the  train  of  this  short  proces- 
sion we  can  take  a  hundred  thousand  of  you  just  as  well, 
without  crowding  anvone.  At  first  we  sav  to  Ah  Cum 
that  we  do  not  wish  to  go  anywhere  m  particular ;  "  just 
take  us  through  the  streets ;  let  us  see  how  the  people  live, 
how  they  buy  and  sell  and  get  gain  ;  let  us  see  how  they 
pound  their  meal,  and  sell  their  fish,  and  make  their  shoes, 
and  shave  their  heads,  and  paint  their  pictures,  and  do  their 
ivory  work,  and  fashion  their  jewelry,  and  turn  out  their 
])ottery."  It  is  not  necessary  to  stop  and  go  inside  of  any 
building  to  see  all  of  these  things,  for,  as  in  all  Chinese 
cities,  these  handicrafts  are  carried  on  in  shops  out  of  which 
the  front  has  been  com])letely  taken.  Tliei'e  is  a  rear  wall 
to  these  shops  and  two  side  walls,  but  no  front  wall  in 
the  daytime ;  and  passing  through  the  streets  of  Canton 
seems  like  going  through  a  never-ending  arcade.  The  streets 
are  so  narrow  and  so  covered  overhead  with  awnings  and 
immense  signs  that  one  can  scarcely  realize  that  he  is  in 
the  open  air.  The  dim  light  streams  down  from  above,  mel- 
lowing and  tempering  even  the  most  hideous  things,  while 
the  gay  costumes  and  fabrics,  and  gold-lettered  signs,  give  a 
holiday  air  to      v  whole  city. 

Moreover,  it  is  the  birthday  of  the  Fire  God  Avhen  we 
chance  to  go  through  the  city,  and  the  people  are  celebrat- 
ing his  nativity  with  an  unceasing  fusilade  of  firecrackers. 
"Whole  bunches  of  the  snappiest  kind  of  crackers  are  thrown 


IGO 


CIVIL   EN(iINEERINO. 


lil 


recklessly  into  the  streets  under  tlie  very  feet  of  our  coolie 
bearers,  which  make  them  dance  and  caper,  though  they 
take  it  all  very  good-naturedly.  Each  of  us  on  this  journey 
has  three  bearers,  two  in  front  and  one  behind ;  and  the 
streets  are  so  narrow  that  it  is  with  the  greatest  difficulty 
that  two  chairs  can  pass  each  other.  Indeed,  when  two 
chairs  a])proach  from  opposite  directions  a  catastrophe  seems 
unavoidal)le,  but  somehow  or  other  it  is  always  avoided. 
The  })eo})le  flatten  themselves  against  the  Avails  on  either 
side,  taking  up  as  few  cubical  inches  as  possible ;  and  at 
length,  oftentimes  with  a  good  deal  of  turning  and  twisting 
and  engineering,  the  chairs  commg  from  opposite  directions 
])ass  one  another. 

Canton  contains  about  one  million  people,  so  conservative 
writers  say,  though  the  number  is  i)laced  by  numy  at  a  far 
larger  figure.  As  the  more  accurate  censu:=  of  later  years 
is  taken,  the  population  of  China  is  dwindling  somewhat, 
and  the  enormous  figures  that  were  believed  by  our  fore- 
fathers are  scarcely  borne  out  by  the  enumerators.  Peking 
is  not  so  enormously  large  as  has  been  supposed,  while 
Canton,  which  used  to  be  said  in  many  quarters  to  have 
two  millions  of  inhabitants,  is  found  to  have  only  about 
one  million.  However,  this  is  quite  enough  for  the  area 
that  is  inhabited. 

If  ever  people  were  packed  together  like  sardines  in  a 
box,  or  peas  in  a  pod,  it  is  in  this  same  city  of  Canton. 
]^o  superfluous  room,  as  I  have  said,  is  taken  up  by  the 
streets,  and  this  city  which,  if  it  Avas  spread  out  like 
"Washington  or  ]\Ielbourne,  or  even  New  York,  would  re- 
quire a  wall  something  like  one  hundred  miles  in  length, 
is  encom])assed  by  a  wall  less  than  six  miles  in  circuit. 
This  Avall  was  built  in  the  eleventh  century,  and  was 
finished  as  it  now  stands   more   than  five   hundred   years 


^irt\\ 


A  CURIOUSLY  CHAN(JING   PANORAMA. 


k;: 


ago.  In  it  are  sixteen  gates,  besides  two  water  gates. 
Canton  became  a  port  of  foreign  coniniorce  more  tlian  a 
thousand  years  ago,  but  it  was  not  until  1(!37  that  a  fleet 
of  P^nglish  vessels  entered  the  river.  Since  then  the  trade 
has  largely  been  in  the  hands  of  the  English,  who  seem, 
in  whatever  ])art  of  the  world  they  go,  to  get  their  full 
siuire  of  the  ffood  thinij^s  of  this  life. 

There  are  125  temples  in  the  city  of  Canton,  and  every 
little  shoj)  has  its  altar,  before  Avhich  the  daily  incense  is 
burned.  I  am  told  that  more  is  spent  for  incense  and 
candles  at  these  altars  than  is  given  for  foreign  missions  for 
the  whole  world  by  the  great  Congregational  and  Presby- 
terian boards  of  the  United  States. 

Some  of  the  streets  through  which  we  pass  have  odd 
names ;  for  instance,  one  of  them  is  "  Longevity  Lane " ; 
another,  "  Heavenly  Peace  street,''  while  ''  High  street "  and 
''  Market  street "  sound  verv  familiar.  I  wish  in  our  own 
country  we  might  have  more  streets  of  "  Benevolence  and 
Love."  AV^e  will  at  least  pass  through  this  street  in  Canton, 
even  though  it  belies  its  names. 

We  shall  never  get  accustomed  to  this  constantly  chang- 
ing panorama ;  these  odd  people ;  these  queer  costumes ; 
these  strange  sights ;  these  outrageous  odors !  Cologne 
itself,  with  all  its  seventy  smells,  cannot  for  a  moment 
comjiare  with  Canton. 

It  is  a  "wonder  that  the  })eople  are  not  exterminated  by 
ty])hoid  fever  and  diphtheria.  There  is  no  drainage  to 
.s})eak  of,  and  Avhat  little  there  is  lies  immediately  below  the 
flagstones  over  which  Ave  pass,  and  is  very  rarely,  if  ever, 
flushed  by  running  Avater.  Strange  to  say,  hoAvever,  Ave  are 
told  that  the  rate  of  mortality  is  not  especially  high  in  Can- 
ton ;  that  there  are  many  old  people  in  the  city  and  that  it  is 
not  often  visited  by  any   sweeping  pestilence.     "What  Avili 


108 


IGNORANT  OF   DRAINS   AND  CUT-OFFS. 


our  doctors  and  sanitary  cn^inoors  and  |>lninl)crs,  who  muko 
life  niisorable  for  the  lioiisehohlor.  sav  to  tiiisj 

If  over  Avo  have  a  little  scarlet  rash  in  the  house  among 
the  cliiidi'on,  or  if  the  tloctor  can  discover  a  white  patch  in 
our  throats,  he  at  once  declares  that  tiie  plumbing  is  out  of 
ordei"  and  the  Health  Department  comjx'ls  us  to  rip  up  the 
Hoors  and  discover  the  cause  of  the  affliction  in  some  hidden 
and  undiscoverable  lead  j)ipe.  The  plumber  is  called  in  and 
he  declares  that  his  rival  who  })lumbe(l  the  house  was  a  per- 
fect idiot  and  knew  nothing  about  sanitary  engineering. 
That  means  a  bill  of  several  hundred  dollars  for  the  most  im- 
proved style  of  pipes  and  traps  and  drains,  and,  as  likely  as 
not,  the  next  year  scarlet  fever  attacks  another  child  and 
a  white  })atch  appears  on  the  other  side  of  our  throats.  Yet 
these  benighted  people  of  Canton,  who  never  heard  of  a 
plumber,  who  know  not  how  to  build  a  decent  drain,  and 
are  not  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  patent  traps,  cut-off's, 
and  counter  vents,  live  on  centurv  after  century  in  their  ill- 
drained,  foul-odored  city,  in  blissful  ignorance  of  what  they 
esca])e  by  not  being  sufficiently  civilized. 

Some  of  the  shops  which  interest  us  most  as  Ave  ])ass 
along  the  streets  are  the  fish  markets.  The  fish  are  all 
brought  to  the  market  alive  and  wriggling.  AVlien  a  cus- 
tomer comes  along,  ho  ])icks  out  the  fish  Avhicli  he  fancies  in 
the  tank ;  the  dealer  dextrously  captures  him  with  a  net, 
splits  and  beheads  him  in  sight  of  the  customer  who  goes  on 
his  way  rejoicing,  knowing  that  at  least,  he  will  have  fresh 
fish  for  dinner. 

The  many  little  candy  stands  and  booths  for  selling  nuts 
and  cakes  also  interest  us.  There  is  a  kind  of  soft  yellow 
cake  made  of  beans  which  is  greatly  affected  by  the  lower 
class  of  Chinese,  and  which  always  has  a  Chinese  character 
stamped  on  the  top ;  there  are  peanut   venders  on  whose 


f\ 


CHEAP   FOR   "CASH. 


169 


travs  are  arranged  little  j)iles  of  peanuts  which  are  worth 
one  ''cash"  (one-tenth  of  a  cent)  each,  while  other  dealers 
confine  their  attention  to  betel  nuts,  of  which  they  carry 
a  stock  in  trade  consisting-  of  half  a  dozen  nuts  cut  into 
(quarters,  with  some  pungent  leaves  to  wrap  them  in  before 


.mMlliiQaiiMi! 


FISniNG   WITH   COUMOUANTS. 

they  are  masticated.  In  other  places  we  find  row  after 
row  of  toy  shops  and  little  earthenware  establishments, 
where  the  largest  thing  of  value  will  cost  about  one  cent. 

In  fact,  it  "would  be  interesting  to  see  how  many  things 
on  the  streets  of  Canton  could  be  bought  for  a  cash.  A 
collection  of  such  articles  Avould  lill  a  cabinet  with  rare 
curiosities.  But  let  not  any  foreigner  think  he  could  make 
such  purchases.  The  thrifty  Chinese  dealer  is  sure  that  the 
said  foreigner's  pockets  are  lined  with  gold  and  will  charge 
him  at  least  ten  times  the  true  value  of  any  article  desired, 
lie  can  only  get  what  he  wants  at  a  reasonable  j)rice  by 
sending  a  Chinaman  for  it  and  paying  him  a  commission  for 
buying  in  the  cheapest  market. 

In  the  large  stores  the  "cash"  is  not  very  much  used, 

but  small  silver  pieces,  pennies  and  huge,  dirty,  ragged  bank 

bills ;  but  the  street  venders  and  cheap  Jacks  on  the  side- 
11 


170 


A   COW-LOAD   OF  COINS. 


walk  trade,  lor  the  most  part,  in  cash  alone,  and  one  needs 
to  eariT  an  extra  sedan  eliair  to  Indd  liis  nionev  il'  lio 
expects  to  make  maJiy  purclias(>s  witli  these  ciimltroiis  coins. 
The  small  c<tnia;4(',  liowevrM',  is  not  so  lai'^^c  liere  as  it  is 
in  Coi'ea,  oj'  at  least  the  ])recious  metals  are  more  used.  I 
am  told  that  in  Coi'ea  the  purchaser  \vh(»  ^-oes  to  market 
drives  a  cow  before  him  to  cai'iy  his  casli,  and  if  lie  expects 
to  make  any  considerable  pui'chases.  he  must  load  two  cows 
with  the  n(vessary  m<jney.  The  cows  carry  his  coins,  but 
he  can  cari'v  his  purchases  homo  in  his  hands. 

The  royal  family  of  Corea,  it  is  said,  desiivd  to  make  a 
missioiuiry  a  ])resent  on  th(>  occasion  of  his  marria<^'e,  since 
the  missionaiy  had  been  s(M'viceal)le  to  the  emperor's  wife 
when  ill.  AVhat  was  the  missionary's  surprise  to  find  six 
coolies  come  to  his  house  each  loaded  down  "with  a  huij'e 
chest  of  monev  which  was  all  they  could  stajjijer  under. 
"When  ho  camo  to  count  his  treasure,  he  found  that  his  i)res- 
ent  was  a  generous  doiuition  of  $300,  all  in  cop])er  cash. 

As  wo  go  along  the  streets  in  our  sedan  chairs,  we  excite 
a  great  deal  of  comment  and  amused  attention  from  the 
])a8sers  l)y  and  from  the  store-keepers  as  well.  The  little 
Pilgrim,  especially,  attracts  the  notice  of  all  the  boys  and 
girls  in  Canton.  When  they  catch  sight  of  him  in  his  chair, 
they  chuckle  and  giggle  and  ])oint  their  fingers  at  him,  and 
laugh  as  if  he  was  the  funniest  object  they  ever  beheld.  A 
little  imp  with  a  long  queue  will  scuttle  into  the  house  as  we 
go  by,  and  call  his  father  and  mother,  his  uncles  and  aunts, 
and  his  brothers  and  sisters  and  cousins,  to  look  at  that 
strange  cavalcaile,  and  especially  at  that  little  "foreign 
devil,"  as  he  persists  in  calling  the  juvenile  Pilgrim. 

One  would  su])poso  that  foreigners  were  so  numerous  in 
the  vicinity  of  Canton,  they  would  excite  no  interest,  but,  as 
a  matter  of  fact,  comparatively  few  of  them  are  seen  on  the 


^'I 


AMU8IN(f  ri'RIOHITIKH. 


in 


stivcts  of  tli(!  n;itiv(!  city.  Ladies  arc  an  especial  curiosity, 
ami  Anu'i'ican  boys  ai'c^  evidently  most  aniiisine-  and  lon<j;-to- 
l)e-renienil)ered  creatures.  It  is  \rry  ])rol)al)le  that  some  of 
those  slant-eyed  little  ('clestials  are  still  talkin<,^  ahout  that 
small  hoy  in  the  Boston  Ili'^h  School  caj),  and  those  ahsurd 
short  ti'ousersand  lon;^  stockings,  ami  that  (jueer  American 
reefer,  who  once  passed  thi'ou<^h  theii'  streets. 


rUISONKKH   IN    A   CANTON    JAIL, 


There  are  a  few  "  show  places  "  in  Canton,  as  there  are 
in  every  city,  which  the  traveler  must  not  ne<^lect,  though  I 
must  say  that  I  always  prefer  first  to  get  an  idea  of  the  w^ay 
the  common  ])eople  live,  rather  than  to  be  dragged  from 
temple  to  })ago(la,  and  from  ]iago(la  to  university  by  the 
eager  and  loquacious  guide.  But  that  is  one  of  Ah  Cam's 
good  points.  lie  is  willing  that  you  should  see  what  you 
want  to  see,  and  will  not  insist  upon  your  seeing  only  what 
he  considers  wonderful.     He  lets  us  have  our  fill  of  Canton- 


172 


(iRANDMOTHEU's    HLUK  CHINA. 


Iv 


I: 


ii 


es(}  sif^lits  I'lnd  sounds  iind  odofs ;  Ik;  is  williii;,^  tliiit  we 
should  ^•riitil'y  imv  cui-iosity  by  looUinn-  into  vci-y  liuud)l(; 
and  insiji^iiilicunt  shops.  lie  is  not  iishiun(;d  of  us  il'  we  stop 
to  »i;'hin(;(;  at  the  street  pechlh'i',  and  h(!  does  not  IVown  upon 
us  with  i'i«^ht(!OUs  in(li<^tiiition  even  when  we  h)ok  into  th(^ 
cat  and  (h)<^  nie>iit  stoi'c.  Ilei'c;  is  one  poor  pussy,  still"  and 
cold,  iind  sin^^ed  of  iill  liei'  hair,  awiiitin<j^  a  customer.  A 
pool'  l)U|)py  that  hiis  depai'ted  this  life,  looks  •ghastly  since  ho 
has  been  di'csscid  and  trussed  like  a  j)i^.  In  another  ])art  of 
th(!  stoi'<',  a  wick(!r  basket  contains  another  s])ecinien  of  the 
feline  race,  which,  Ah  (Juni  says,  will  bo  sacrificed  at  noon, 
at  which  tirno  wo  shall  see  a  yroat  many  more  cats  and  (lo<^s 
if  wo  happen  to  ikiss  that  way. 

Fii'st  in  viewin<^  C'anton's  famous  sights,  let  us  go  into 
the  (luild  Hall  of  tin;  tea  morciiants.  It  is  a  very  old 
affair,  and  the  carving  and  terra  cotta  work  is  (;xcoeding]y 
fin(;;  but  we  are  espcicially  interested  in  a  little  garden 
behind  the  (luild  Hall,  for,  from  this  garden  the  famous 
willow  ])attern  was  copied,  Avhich  is  found  upon  the  blue 
cliina  ware  of  our  grandmothers  and  great-grandmothers. 
The  (original  tr(!o  which  gave  it  its  name  has  died,  but  the 
other  features  a.ro  tho  same  whic  «avo  been  ]ierpetuatod  so 
many  scor(>s  of  millions  of  tiiniis,  on  thc^  plates  and  cups  and 
saucers  and  t(!ai)ots  and  teacups,  which,  in  the  (jlden  time, 
wore  treasured  by  tlu;  mothers  and  handed  down  to  tho 
daughters  with  such  scruj)ulous  care. 

l-'rom  the  (xuild  ILill  hit  \\n  go  into  tin;  temple  of  tlx;  five 
hundi'(!d  Uuddliists.  This  is  a,  lai'g*;  building  around  llics 
Avails  of  v»'hi(;li  ar<i  ari'anged  in  two  rows  great  gilt  images 
of  I'liddliist  ancHisti'al  divinities,  fiv(s  hundred  of  them  in  all. 
Eveiy  face  has  a  distinct  individuality  of  its  own,  and  they 
all  !iav(!  long  ears  that  i-eacli  dcAvn  almost  to  their  shoulders, 
lik(;  a  turkey's  (U!wlaj)s.     These  long  eai's  indicate  longevity. 


n  I 


FIVK   HUNDUKO   ANCESTUAI.   (iOI)S. 


173 


Wliiit  sur])ris(Hl  us  most  of  all,  was  to  find  Marco  I'olo  in 
this  f^aiaxy.  This  famous  travciicT  has  \h'vu  aihnittcd  to  tiio 
comi)aii_y  of  tlu;  ;^'o(ls,  and  Ik;  was  Iiomoi-cmI  with  a  stick  of 
hui'iiiu«^  inc(nis(!  om  thciday  W(!  wcvc,  in  tlit^  tcnij)le,  which  was 
moi'c  t'lau  could  l)c  said  foe  most  of  them.  \  think  if  I 
had  intenihid  to  burn  any  incense  in  tiiat  temple,  I  shoidd 
have  put  iny  stick  in  thi!  little  sand  box  before  Mai-co  Polo 
ulso.  It  is  notc(!rtain  that  the  features  of  this  ima<^'(!  i'es(Mn- 
ble  this  lirst  ^lobe-trotter's,  for  whom  it  is  supposed  to  stand, 
but  it  is  probably  (juite  as  autlK^ntic  as  many  of  th(^  pictures 
and  statues  of  tlx*  famous  m  n  of  anti(juity. 

()n(i  oUiv.v  old  fellow  among  tiie  <^ods  also  attracted  my 
attention.  lbs  had  eyebrows  that  rciached  almost  down  to 
his  chin,  and  from  all  that  I  couhl  gatiier,  Ik;  was  famous 
chiefly  for  his  (!y(;l)rows,  which  have  never  been  duplicated 
since. 

In  the  middl(!  aisle;  of  the;  liall  of  the  five  hundred  Bud- 
dhist gods  is  ii  liiH!  bronz(!  })agoda,  in  which  arc;  three  great 
bronze  inniges.  While  we  w(;r(!  in  tin;  tcsmple  it  service  was 
going  on,  and  four  j)riests  wei-e  marching  around  the;  bronze 
imag(!s,  beating  tluiir  tomtoms  and  chanting  in  a  most  dole- 
ful and  lugul)rious  toms  of  voice.  Ainong  all  the;  dis[)ij'ited 
fellows  I  ever  saw  th(!se  priests  would  cai'iy  off  thi!  ])alin. 
They  had  a  little  cur'iosity  about  us,  who  were;  the  only  vis- 
itoi's  to  the;  tcjmple  at  tlu;  time,  but  no  interest  in  tlu;  service 
that  th(!y  wer*;  perfoi'ming.  They  //i>f.'<t  beat  their  tomtcmis 
so  many  times ;  they  /ii.i/M  wail  out  their  iiideous  chant  so 
many  times  moi'(;,  but  they  evidently  considered  it  a  most 
unpleasant  job,  aiul  desired  to  get  thi-ough  it  with  as  littlo 
expenditure;  of  nervous  energy  as  possible;.  I  shall  iun'<!r 
foi'g(;t  the  faces  of  two  of  those  j)ri(!sts,  so  utterly  dis|)ii'ite(l 
wei'e  th(iy,  so  completely  and  i)]'ofoun(lly  inditren'emt  to  what 
they  were  doing ! 


ii  i 


1'^ 


t 


17t 


THE   SORDID   SPIRIT   OF   BUDDHISM. 


It  seems  to  mo  that  the  siglit  was  representative  of  the 
decadence  of  the  lUuUlhist  religion  everywhere.  Whatever 
it  may  iiave  been  in  the  past,  it  certainly  has  little  hold  on 
the  alFections  of  the  people  to-day.  The  idols  are  worshii)e(l 
with  no  thought  of  love  or  real  reverence  but  Avith  the  hojio 
of  gain.  The  incense  is  burned  and  the  prayers  are  offered 
for  the  sake  of  good  luck,  and  there  is  no  more  sense  of 
reverence  or  worship,  or  affectionate  recognition  of  a  higher 
power  on  the  part  of  these  devotees,  so  far  as  I  could  learn, 
than  there  is  in  tlie  hearts  of  those  at  home,  who,  partly 
for  fun  and  partly  because  <jf  their  superstition,  hang  out  the 
horseshoe  over  the  front  door,  or  insist  on  seeing  the  moon 
over  their  right  shoulder  when  she  ilrst  ap])ears.  "Worship 
appears  to  l)o  universal  in  such  a  city  as  Canton.  Every 
store,  every  house,  and  every  boat  has  its  god,  its  shrine, 
and  its  incense;  yet  it  is  simply  the  god  of  Good  Luck  who 
is  worshiped;  only  the  deity  of  Prosperity  who  is  invoked. 

Let  us  go  to  another  temple  before  we  get  through  with 
Canton.  This  shall  be  the  ''Temple  of  Horrors,"  which, 
sing'ularly  enough,  is  situated  on  the  street  of  "  Benevolence 
and  Love."  It  is  the  most  ])opular  temple  in  the  city, 
whether  because  of  the  horrors  which  are  artistically  ar- 
ranged at  each  side  or  L'ecause  of  the  fortune  tellers,  ped- 
dlers, gamblers,  and  (piacks  who  have  their  stalls  there,  I  am 
not  able  to  say.  This  seems  to  be  the  favorite  resort  of  the 
dentists  also,  for  I  saw  several  of  their  ilk  with  long  strings 
of  extracted  molars  and  grinders  at  least  thirty  feet  in 
length,  which  looked  like  ghastly  necklaces.  There  were  a 
few  ])eo[)le  paying  their  vows  to  the  idols,  but  the  one  who 
interested  me  most  was  a  woman  of  high  caste  who  toddled 
in  on  the  tiniest  of  tiny  J'eet.  If  her  feet  were  small  she 
made  u[)  for  it  at  the  other  end  of  her  person,  for  her  hair 
was  dressed  in  the  latest  and   exti'emest  stvle.  oniaincnted 


w 


IN   THE   IIEIWHT   OF   THE   FASHION. 


175 


with  all  kinds  of  ricli  and  costly  ornaments.  Ilor  face  was 
painted  in  most  l)i'illiant  coloi's  and  there  was  a  ])atcli  of 
bi'illiant  carmine  on  her  lower  lip.  Iler  clothing  was  silk  of 
various  bright  cohjrs,  and  she  was  evidently  gotten  up  with- 
out regard  to  expense.  Ou  her  tiny  toes  she  could  not  walk 
alone,  but  had  a  servant  ou  each  side  to  steady  her  as  she 
went  up  the  steps.  Slu;  appeared  <;s  indilFeront  to  the  god 
wh(i  was  grinning  from  the  rear  end  of  the  temple  as  any  of 
the  rest,  but  coolly  sent  one  of  her  sei'VJints  to  light  some  in- 
cense and  place  the  l)undle  of  sticks  in  the  sand  box  beneath 
the  god's  nose.  Then  she  got  a  slij)  referring  to  a  nundjer, 
which  numl)er  the  })riest  consulted  and  gave  her  the  proph- 
ecy which  she  sought.  The  ])riestly  oracle  frecpiently 
couches  his  words  in  very  ambiguous  phrases  which  will 
answer  for  one  thing  alxjut  ;is  well  as  another;  but  after 
getting  her  slip  of  paper  which  told  her  fortuiu^  she  toddled 
off  once  more,  evidently  well  [)]eased  with  the  news  slu;  had 
received,  while  tlui  priests  were  ecpially  satistied  with  the 
silver  bits  which  had  come  into  their  till. 

Everything  about  these  temples  is  dirty  and  disorderly. 
There  is  no  ol)eisance  oi-  indicaticjns  of  reverence  on  the 
part  of  the  worshipers.  They  bustU;  around  in  the  most 
business-like  way,  l)uy  their  incense,  light  it,  i)lace  it  in  the 
proper  receptacle,  and  tlieii  go  off  perfectly  satislied  that 
they  have  done  their  duty.  I]i  all  the  smaller  t(nn[)les 
which  I  saw  in  ("liina,  the  sanu'  disregai'd,  inditrerence,  and 
irreverence  were  exhibit(Ml.  The  priests  lot)ked  utterly 
weary  and  dispirited  and  evidently  tlujught  life  was  not 
woi'th  living.  The;  worshipers  only  sought  good  fortune 
and  success  in  business.  Tlu^  tem[)les  were  often  littered 
and  dirty,  and  priest  and  worshiper  alike  were  only  con- 
cerned with  wliat  they  could  get  out  of  the  imposture. 
This  temple  is  called  the  Tem[)le  of  Horrors  because  of  some 


KG 


THE   BUDDHIST   HADES. 


wax- work-like  shows  on  eitlier  side  of  the  entrance  which 
leads  up  to  it.  I  think  Mii(hinie  Tussaud  must  have  gotten 
the  idea  of  her  underground  Temple  of  Horrors  in  London 
from  this  temple  in  Canton,  her's,  to  be  sure,  being  rather 
more  artistic  and  realistic.  J»ut  this  show  has  the  advantage 
of  being  older,  and  the  figures  (pute  as  true  to  life. 

In  one  of  the  little  ai)artments  two  liends  are  seen  saw- 
ing a  man  in  two  from  his  head  to  his  feet.  The  poor  man 
who  is  l>eing  thus  treated  is  inclosed  between  two  boards, 
but  he  is  tui-ned  sideways  to  the  audience  so  that  it  can  see 
the  saw  going  through  him.  In  another  apartment  transmi- 
gration is  shown,  and  a  nnm  is  being  turned  into  a  wolf,  the 
creature  as  he  a[)pears  being  half  man  and  half  wolf.  In 
still  another  section  of  this  famous  museum  is  a  man 
strai»[)ed  to  the  ground  with  the  soles  of  his  feet  uppermost, 
Avhilo  a  hideous  devil  with  a  grin  on  his  face  bastinadoes 
him.  Still  another  pool'  fellow  has  a  red-hot  bell  coming 
down  over  his  shrinking  body  which,  evidently,  will  soon  be 
reduced  to  a  cindei',  while  another  one  is  being  boiled  in  oil. 
These  are  the  ])unishments  of  the  Buddhist  hell. 

Another  of  the  show  ])laces  of  Canton  which  we  wish  to 
see  is  the  Examination  Hall.  Here  every  three  years  the 
examinution  of  candidates  for  the  second  literary  degree  is 
held  All  the  students  of  the  lirst  degree  in  the  whole 
})rovince  are  recjuii-ed  to  compete  at  this  examination,  and  I 
imat>ine  it  is  the  most  extensive  "exam  "  that  is  held  in  anv 
portion  of  the  world.  As  we  enter  the  Examination  Hall, 
we  see  on  either  side  rows  and  rows  of  little  cells  which  ex- 
tend back  from  the  main  passageway,  seventy-five  or  a  hun- 
dred of  them  in  a  row.  These  cells  are  5^  feet  long  and 
3^  feet  wide,  and  numbei'  lljfUO;  but  even  this  enoi'mous 
number  is  not  enough  for  all  the  candidates,  and  additional 
cells  were  furnished  at  the  last  triennial  examination. 


THE   GREAT   TRIENNIAL   EXAMINATION. 


177 


In  these  naiTow  closets  the  ciuulidute  for  the  second  de- 
gree is  imprisoned.  lie  is  given  a  chair  and  a  (Hniinutive 
table :  a  little  earthen  braiser  with  a  few  coals  in  it  on 
which  he  can  cook  his  rice  and  make  his  tea,  and  for  three 
days  he  is  not  allowed  to  leave  liis  cell  except  to  go  into  the 
narrow  passage  whicli  runs  beside  it.  lie  must  have  no 
communication  with  any  other  student,  and  if  he  is  caught 
with  another  man's  essav  or  cheatiu''-  in  anv  wav,  he  mav 
lose  his  head,  for  aught  I  know.  At  any  rate  the  punish- 
ment Avould  be  very  severe.  The  examination  begins  on  the 
eighth  day  of  the  eighth  moon  and  occupies  three  sessions  of 
three  days  each.  The  same  text  is  given  to  all  at  daylight, 
and  the  essays  must  be  handed  in  on  the  following  morning. 
Out  of  these  12,0()()  or  more  candidates,  liow  many  do  you 
suppose  pass  the  linal  examination^  ^^'^Iv  1^5<>  on  the 
average.  The  rest  of  the  poor  fellows  Avho  have  used  their 
time  jind  brains  fijr  nothing  are  doomed  to  disa[)])ointment, 
but  they  can  try  for  the  degree  again  at  tlie  end  of  another 
three  years  if  they  choose,  and  again  and  again,  and  the 
most  pathetic  spectacle  is  to  see  old  men  of  sixty  and 
seventv  years  who  have  tried  to  i)ass  the  examination  every 
three  years  since  they  were  twenty,  still  hoping  against 
lio})e. 

Those  who  pass,  however,  are  well  taken  care  of,  for 
they  are  booked  for  promotion  in  civil  offices,  and  are 
always  required  to  go  to  Peking  to  compete  for  the  third 
degree.  If  one  passes  this  {bird  degree,  he  is  honored  by  all 
his  relatives  and  by  the  Avhole  clan.  I  have  seen  many 
a  pole  with  fluttering  flags  set  up  in  Chinese  vilhiges,  indi- 
cating that  the  family  which  lives  about  that  pole  has  a 
scholar  of  high  rank  among  them,  one  who  has  passed  an 
examination  for  the  second  or  third  degree. 

But  what  an  absurd  and  useless  waste  of  energy  is  re- 


178 


A   WASTE   OF   ENEKCJY. 


([uiivd  to  pnss  this  examiniition?  Notliing  of  modern 
scieiifc  is  deiiiandod,  notliinn-  of  modern  litemturo,  notliin*'- 
timt  will  improve  the  body  or  the  soul,  or  that  will  add  to 
the  siiin  total  of  the  world's  knowledge  ;  hut  simply  an  essay 
on  some  text  of  Confucius.  This  is  the  only  door  of  en- 
trance to  civil  service  promotion  in  China.  This  kind  of 
civil  service  reform  certainly  needs  itself  to  be  reformed. 

Another  interesting  place  in  Canton  is  the  Five-Storied 
Pagoda.  Strickly  speaking,  it  is  not  Ji  i)ago(Ui  at  all,  but 
looks  more  like  a  great  brick  barn.  There  are  five  stories  to 
it,  however,  and  from  the  topmost  i)latfoi'm  a  magnilicent 
view  of  the  city,  the  great  river,  and  the  hills  beyond  can 
be  seen.  These  hills  are  filled  with  graves  of  a  semicircular 
shape,  and  from  this  place  the  tond)  of  a  relative  of  Ma- 
liommed,  Avho  died  in  the  seventh  century,  is  visible. 

Perhaps  we  have  seen  enough  for  one  morning,  and  after 
paying  our  bearers  about  twenty-live  cents  each  for  their 
services  and  our  guide  a  reasonable  sum  for  his  time,  Ave  will 
find  our  way  back  to  our  friends,  v/ith  most  vivitl  recodec- 
tions  of  a  morning  in  Canton. 


CIIAPTEU  X. 


OUR  JOURNEY  UP  THE  GREAT  RIVER. 

An  Excursion  in  a  Flower  Boat —  "  Rico  Power  "  — Tiic  Stcrn-Wheolcr 
and  itH  Motive  Power  —  Sacritices  and  Perils  of  the  Missionary  —  A 
Cliiiiese  Feast  —  CliO]  Sticks  and  How  to  UseTliein  —  Lanih  and  Cliest- 
nuts— Frogs'  Legs  and  Onions  —  A  Dissipaled  Prejudice  — Shrimps 
and  JJaniboo  Root  —  Our  Seventeen  Courses  —  A  Chinese  Village  —  A 
Village  School  and  Schoolniaster — Studying  Alou^l  —  A  Pot  and  its 
Contents —  How  the  Ashes  of  Grandfathers  are  saved  in  China —  "  Fe, 
Fi,  Fo,  Fum,  I  Smell  the  Blood  of  a  Chinaman"  —  Seventeen  Dollars 
for  a  Clnld  —  A  Fire-Cracker  Factory  —  How  Fire-Crackers  are  Made 
—  Cheaj)  AV^ages  and  Cheap  Living— A  Chinese  Flower  Garden— A 
Mandarin  in  His  Blossom  Gown  —  A  Common  Temple  —  Waking  up 
the  God  —  Washstands  for  a  God  —  Lack  of  Reverence  —  Fans  for  Sick 
Relatives  —  The  Voices  of  the  Night  —  A  Contrast, 


I  GST  visitors  to  Canton  confine  their 
attention  to  the  great  city  itself, 
and  think  they  have  seen  it  all 
when  they  have  visited  the  Exam- 
ination Hall,  the  Temple  of  the 
Five  Ilnndred  Gods,  the  silk- 
weaving  establishments,  and  the 
Five-Storied  Pagoda;  but  to  me 
these  Avere  not  the  niost  interest- 
in  o;  of  the  sio-hts  of  this  marvel- 
ons  province,  teeming  with  more 
population  than  any  other  ecpial 
section  of  the  globe.  It  Avas  onr  good  fortune  to  be  guests 
in  a  delio-htful  missionary  home  Avhile  in  Canton,  and  to 
see  not  only  these  stock  sights,  but  to  get  some  glimpses  of 
Chinese  life  .vliich  not  one  visitor  in  a  hundred  is  likely  to 


see. 


(179) 


180  RICE   POWER  NAVKUTION. 

One  (lay  we  had  an  excursion  u)>  the  great  Pearl  Iliver 
in  a  Cliiiie.se  house  boat.  Tiiis  was  a  most  uiiicjue  experi- 
ence. The  hoat  was  a  great  lumbering  ark  of  an  atl'air, 
fitted  u})  with  kitchen  and  sitting-room,  while  the  stained- 
glass  wiiulows,  ebony  and  marl^le  furniture,  and  tinkling 
chandeliers  gave  it  quite  a  gorgeous  ajipearance.  Slowly 
and  wearisomely  the  coolies  made  their  way  up  the  river 
just  as  their  ancestors  had  done  for  a  thousand  years  jiast. 
Our  boat,  like  all  the  other  thousands  on  the  river,  was  pro- 
pelled by  "  rice  power,"  as  one  of  our  fi'iends  said.  Steam 
power  has  not  yet  been  introduced  on  the  Pearl  Kiver, 
except  for  a  few  steam  launches.  Electric  ])ower  is  still  un- 
unknown,  but  "  rice  power,"  exerted  through  the  muscles  of 
men  and  women,  is  still  the  })ropelling  force  on  the  Canton 
or  Pearl  River. 

Every  now  and  then  a  splashing  stern-Avheel  boat  would 
pass  us.  At  first  it  ajipeared  almost  like  a  Mississi))pi  IJiver 
steamer  of  rude  design,  Avith  Avater  flA'ing  from  the  paddle 
wheel  behind,  but  on  looking  more  closely,  we  could  see  that 
the  machinery  was  worked  l)y  sixteen  coolies,  who  constantly 
shullled  through  their  monotonous  round  like  ])oor  horses  in 
a  treadmill.  But  even  this  is  an  invention  of  very  late  years, 
and  is  considered  a  great  innovation  by  most  of  the  inhabit- 
ants. A  long  sweep  fastened  to  a  short  staple  in  the  bow 
of  the  boat  is  still  the  ordinary  means  of  propulsion. 

Every  few  minutes  our  coolies  would  stop  to  refresh 
themselves  with  a  cup  of  tea,  or  a  whiff  or  two  from  their 
pipes,  which,  by  the  way,  only  hold  a  })inch  of  tobacco. 
They  all  seemed  to  be  very  good-tempered  and  al>le-bodied 
fellows.  One  or  two  of  them  had  brawny  arms  tliat  would 
rejoice  the  heart  of  a  pugilist.  Past  the  rice  fields,  past  vil- 
lages, past  toiling  coolies  endlessly  pumping  water  for  irri- 
gation, past  luxuriant  gardens  where  every  square  inch  of 


^ 


COURA(JE   AND   SELF-SACKIFKE. 


181 


W 


soil  is  cultivated,  wo  slowly  made  our  way.  Some  of  my 
missionary  Friends  spend  much  of  their  time  in  the  villages 
lumdi'eds  of  miles  u})  the  river,  for  this  is  a  great  water  way 
■which  branches  out  in  (>vei'v  direction  and  affords  access  to 
the  very  heart  of  this  great  province.  I  would  like  to  intro- 
duce the  scoffers  at  missi(Miary  woi'k  to  these  self-sacrificing 
men  and  women  who  have  left  their  home  and  fi'iends 
behind  them,  and  are  spending  their  lives  in  the  foul  atmos- 
phere of  a  pagan  country,  not  for  a  few  short  weeks  or 
mcmths,  but  for  a  lifetime,  in  order  to  win  some  of  these 
people  to  Christ. 

Many  a  time  have  these  missionaries  taken  their  lives 
in  their  hands.  Though  there  is  now  but  little  danger  in 
most  of  the  villages  there  are  some  which  it  is  not  safe  for 
them  to  visit.  Many  times  have  some  of  them  been  stoned 
out  of  the  villages  Avhere  they  attempted  to  preach  the  Gos- 
pel, but  they  still  persevered  and  are  satisfied  that  the  time 
will  come  when  this  marvelous  j)eo])le,  who  have  retained 
their  ancient  civilization  for  so  many  centuries,  will  be 
equally  stable  in  their  new  Christian  civilization. 

At  length,  in  the  course  of  this  novel  picnic,  dinner  time 

comes  and  my  friends  have  promised  me  a  genuine  Chinese 

feast.     Let  us  sit  down  together  to  this  feast.     AVe  are  not 

allowed  to  have  knives  and  forks  or  spoons,  but   simply 

chop  sticks  and  a  little  porcelain  ladle,  with  which  we  help 

ourselves  out   of  the  common  dish  in  the  middle  of  the 

table.     "Would   you   learn   how   to   use   these  chop   sticks^ 

then  follow  these  directions  implicitly.     Put  the  lower  stick 

across   the   thumb,  holding   it   firmly   betAveen   the   thumb 

and  first  finger.     Place  the   second   cho})   stick    over   this, 

allowing  it  to  be  flexible  and  to  wriggle  as  you  desire  it. 

After  considerable  practice  you   may  ho.  able  to  convey  a 

piece  of  fish  from  the  central  dish  to  your  mouth  Avithout  a 
12 


I 


182 


A  GENUINE  CHINESE  FEAST. 


catastr()))ho  on  the  way.  The  great  soeivt  (A  catiri',^  with 
chop  sticks  is  to  koop  tho  lower  stick  stitl'  and  inllcxihle;  but 
a  forci<^ncr\s  musclt's  bciny  ill-trained,  it  is  apt  to  waver  and 
slip,  which  is  fatal  to  all  successful  elfoi'ts. 

After  waitinff  a  considerable  time  for  the  diijnilied  cooks 
to  make  read}',  oranges  and  banaiiiis  are  brought  on  for  tho 
first  course.  These  required  no  great  skill,  for  wo  aro 
allowed  to  take  thorn  in  our  hands  and  eat  them  as  at  any 
other  time.  But  now  comes  a  diillcult  task.  A  sou})  with 
mushrooms,  melons,  I'ice,  and  l)arlev,  is  next  brought  on  and 
placed  in  a  bowl  in  the  center  of  the  table.  Each  one  takes 
liis  little  porcelain  ladle  and  dii)s  for  himself  in  the  common 
bowl,  while  the  larger  particles  of  mushrooms  and  melons  ho 
must  fish  out  witii  his  chop  sticks.  The  third  cour.se  is 
boiled  chicken  stulfed  Avith  chestnuts  and  rice.  This  is  so 
completely  cooked  that  the  least  little  touch  with  tho  chop 
sticks  breaks  it  into  pieces,  and  wo  ench  fish  out  for  ourselves 
"what  wo  can  from  tho  common  dish.  AVlien  secured  it  is 
most  toothsome  and  savor v,  I  assure  vou. 

Stuffed  ])igeons  constitute  the  fourth  course.  They  are 
somewhat  like  the  chickens,  only  dressed  in  a  different  way. 
Fish  Avrap])ed  in  something  that  resembles  a  sausage  skin 
constitutes  the  fifth  course,  and  a  very  good  course  it  is. 
The  sixth  course  is  lamb  and  chestnuts ;  seventh  course, 
matai,  a  vegetable  that  is  crisp  and  very  pleasant  to  tho 
taste.  Duck  and  ham  furnish  tho  eighth  course,  and  with 
each  new  tlisli  our  })lates  aro  changed,  though  we  are  al- 
lowed to  retain  the  same  chop  sticks.  Frogs'  legs  stewed  in 
onions  are  then  placed  upon  the  table. 

Some  of  the  ladies  of  the  party  told  the  Chinese  servants 
to  be  sure  and  let  them  know  when  the  frogs  apjieared  that 
they  might  decline  that  course ;  but  Avhen  they  thought  to 
mention  the  matter,  they  were  ])olitely  informed  that  the 


SKVKNTKK.N   (OIKSKS. 


183 


tVot^s  had  alrciuly  been  eiitt-n.  and  tliov  roiin'iiilu'rcd,  wlicii 
it  was  too  late  to  roinedv  it,  that  thcv  had  i'liiovcd  that 
coiii'so  bettor  tlian  any  otlici-.  Thus  oui'  pi'cjiidicrs  ai'o  dissi- 
])atL'd,  soinotinios  unconsciously,  I>ul  why  IVo^^s  shouhl  bo 
any  more  distasteful  than  turtles  or  oysters  or  lish,  I  have 
never  been  able  to  dotorniine. 

The  tenth  course  is  rice,  just  sini|ile,  uiiiidulteiMted  boiled 
rice.  Why  it  should  he  thus  honored  in  the  middle!  ol' the 
least,  1  ;iMi  not  aware.  This  is  followed  by  a  course  of 
shrimps  stowed  with  onions  and  bandioo  I'oot,  which  is  very 
l)alatable.  The  twelfth  coiu'se  is  jticUles;  the  thirteenth, 
baiumas;  the  fourteenth,  another  mushroom  soup;  the  fif- 
teenth, a  kind  of  a  dish  made  of  shi'imps,  jiork,  and  other 
meat  mixed  and  boiled  to<^ethei'.  The  sixteenth  is  sjumge 
cake,  and  tho  seventeenth  numdarin  oran<''es.  J>v  this  time 
you  can  imagine  that  the  capacities  of  the  missionaries  were 
sorely  taxed,  and  even  the  gastronomic  cai)al)ilities  of  their 
guests  were  tried  to  the  utmost  extent.  However,  this  was 
not  all,  for  in  order  to  do  full  justice  to  the  (Jhinese  feast,  we 
must  not  forget  that  we  are  in  the  land  c^f  tea,  aiul  in  a  little 
while,  dainty  and  delicate  cu})s  of  it  are  brought  on  to  con- 
clude the  ban(]uet. 

A  little  way  back  from  the  river  are  many  Chinese 
villages  which  for  the  most  part  are  embowered  in  trees. 
The  tiled  roofs  look  so  much  like  the  surface  of  tho  ground 
that  it  is  dirticult  at  a  little  distance  to  find  Avliere  the  village 
begins  and  the  fields  leave  off.  If  we  get  into  the  village, 
however,  we  shall  find  it  teeming  with  life. 

On  this  trip  up  the  Pearl  river  we  have  an  excellent 
opportunity  to  visit  one  of  these  villages.  In  the  missionary 
district  which  is  covered  by  one  of  my  friends  who  is  in  the 
boat  with  us,  are  thirty  thousand  of  these  villages.  Of 
course  he  could  not  preach  in  all  of  them  in  one  year  or 


1' 
i! 


IMAGE  EVALUATiON 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


l?5 


111= 

U    ill  1.6 


9 


'*^..*,  ^^"«-:.^  ■'''C*'^ 


^i>  <^ 


C<' 


184 


STREETS  SPANNED  BY  AN  UMBRELLA. 


in  a  hundred  years,  but  they  are  all  open  to  his  ministra- 
tions. From  a  distance  these  villages  look  somewhat  pictur- 
esque, but  the  enchantment  vanishes  on  nearer  approach.  If 
the  streets  of  Ilong  Kong  are  narrow  and  the  streets  of 
Canton  narrower,  the  streets  of  these  villages  should  be 


1 

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'r 

\ 

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\ 

V\i  1 

\ 

t^ 

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JL'-f 

&^ 

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m^it 

Sm 

^ 

ON  THE  PEARL  ItlVER. 


compared  in  the  superlative  degree,  for  indeed  they  are  the 
narrowest  of  all.  Two  people  can  scarcely  walk  abreast  in 
many  of  them.  I  had  in  my  hand  Avhen  visiting  one  of 
them,  an  ordinary  umbrella  which  exactly  spanned  the  dis- 
tance from  Avail  to  Avail  in  many  streets,  AA'hile  the  Avidest 
ones  Avere  about  six  inches  Avider  than  the  length  of  my 
umbrella.  The  })avement  is  broken  and  shattered  and  horri- 
ble filth  is  ever^nvhere. 

As  Ave  passed  along  the  street  in  the  village,  Ave  heard  a 
great  noise  of  voices  reciting  in  a  humdrum,  sing-song  way, 
something  Avhicli  AA'as  of  course  unintelligible  to  us. 

"  That  is  a  school,"  said  my  friend  ;  "  let  us  look  in."  So 
Ave  unceremoniously  entered,  Avhich  Ave  found  Ave  Avere  at 


«l 


A  PRIMARY   SCHOOL.  186 

perfect  liberty  to  do,  and  saw  twenty  little  urchins  who,  at 
the  top  of  their  voices,  were  shouting  some  sentences  from 
Confucius.  The  schoolmaster  did  not  appear  at  first,  but 
after  we  had  been  standing  looking  in  at  the  door  for  a 
moment,  finding  from  the  slight  cessation  of  noise,  which 
was  due  to  curiosity  of  the  students  who  could  not  recite 
and  look  at  us  at  the  same  time,  that  there  was  something 
going  on,  he  came  out  of  the  back  room  of  the  school  build- 
ing. 

He  was  very  polite  and  courteous  and  invited  us  to  come 
in  and  take  a  seat.  He  explained  to  us  that  the  ])upils 
learned  the  words,  but  that  they  had  no  idea  of  their  mean- 
ing. After  they  had  thoroughly  committed  them,  he  in- 
terpreted the  meaning  of  the  passage,  and  then  gave  them 
a  new  one  to  learn.  They  cannt)t  do  this  silently,  however, 
but  the  louder  they  shout  the  quicker  they  seem  to  learn 
their  lessons.  Most  of  the  schoolmasters  throughout  the 
empire  are  those  Avho  have  passed  tne  first  examination,  but 
are  among  the  vast  majorit}  of  those  who  have  not  passed 
the  second  and  who,  in  all  prubability,  never  will.  It  is  for- 
tunate tliat  some  occupation  is  open  to  them,  though  the 
teacher  of  the  common  school  is  not  a  very  exalted  person- 
age in  China. 

"  What  do  Miat  large  earthen  pot  contain  ? "  I  said  to 
my  friend  as  we  came  out  of  the  school.  "  Oh,  that  is  the 
ancestral  jar,  containing  the  ashes  of  the  grandfathers  of  tlie 
people  who  live  in  this  house,"  he  said. 

Thus  we  made  our  way  through  tliis  crowded  little 
village.  The  Avomen  came  to  the  door  of  their  little  hovels 
to  stare  at  us,  the  children  scuttled  away  as  though  we  were 
the  arch  enemies  of  mankind.  Doubtless  many  of  them 
have  been  taught  by  their  parents  to  believe  that  foreigners 
will  make  aAvay  with  all  of  them  if  they  can  only  get  their 


18G  FOREIGN  OGRES. 

hands  upon  them.  Every  foreigner,  in  tlie  estimation  of  the 
lower  orders  of  Chinese,  is  a  great  ogre  who  is  constantly 
saying,  when  he  comes  into  a  Chinese  village, 

"  Fe,  fl,  fo,  fuin, 

"  I  smell  the  blood  of  a  Chiimnian," 

and  these  litrle  folks  had  evidently  been  taught  to  keep  out 
of  harm's  way.  • 

"When  the  haathen  Chinese  Avish  to  damage  the  reputa- 
tion of  the  missionary,  they  persuade  their  simple-minded 
countrymen  that  the  missionaries  wish  the  eyes  and  hair 
and  livers  of  their  children  to  make  up  into  medicine,  and 
that  they  must  not  send  their  children  to  the  mission 
schools.  A  friend  of  mine  took  a  poor  little  child,  whose 
mother  had  died  and  whose  father  was  a  worthless  scam]), 
in  order  that  she  might  bring  up  this  c'  "Id  in  a  decent  way. 
For  several  months  she  watched  over  it  carefully,  and  gave 
it  the  best  of  Chinese  nurses,  but  one  sad  day  for  the  baby 
the  wretched  father  happened  around,  caught  up  the  child, 
carried  it  off,  and  sold  it  for  $17,  in  order  to  satisfy  one  of 
his  creditors.  The  selling  of  children  is  a  very  common 
thing  among  the  lower  class  of  the  Chinese,  and  infanticide 
is  still  practiced  in  some  of  the  provinces  to  a  frightful  ex- 
tent. Xo  wonder,  with  sucli  Bluebeard-like  stories  for  nur. 
sery  tales,  that  the  little  slant-eyed  urchins  got  out  of  our 
way  as  rapidly  as  they  could. 

On  our  way  from  the  village  we  jiassed  a  firecracker  fac- 
tory, in  which  I  am  sure  the  bovs  of  America  will  be  inter- 
ested.  In  the  rear  room  of  the  factory  were  piles  of  coarse 
brown  ])a])cr.  P>v  a  very  simple  process  tliis  pajier  is  made 
into  tubes  of  the  right  size  for  different  kinds  of  firecrackers, 
while  in  still  another  room  a  dozen  men  and  girls  were 
putting  in  the  powder,  tam])ing  in  the  brick  dust  on  top,  and 
making  a  great  clatter  about  it  with  their  little  mallets. 


CHINESE  CHEAP   LABOR. 


187 


Most  of  this  work  is  done  by  hand,  though  some  rude 
machinery  is  used.  It  has  been  a  mystery  to  me,  ever 
since  the  Urst  Fourth  of  July  that  I  can  remember,  how  fire- 
crackers could  be  made  and  sent  over  to  America  to  be  sold 
for  five  cents  a  bunch.  The  mystery  is  scarcely  diminished 
when  we  see  the  work  performed,  and  note  that  so  much  of 
it  is  hand  labor.  I  suppose  the  real  explanation  lies  in  the 
cheapness  of  labor.  Wages,  I  am  told,  do  not  average  more 
than  ten  cents  per  day,  equivalent  to  seven  cents  of  our 
money ;  but  even  on  this  the  coolies  can  supply  themselves 
with  scanty  food  and  sufficient  clothing  for  this  climate,  and, 
perhaps,  lay  by  a  few  dollars  for  the  rainy  day  which  people 
in  China,  as  well  as  in  America,  are  always  fearing. 

The  real  secret  of  Chinese  cheap  labor  is  Chinese  cheap 
living.  Hotels  in  China  Avliich  charge  $-t.(JU  a  day  for  their 
guests  and  $1.00  a  day  for  European  servants  Avill  board 
Chinese  servants  for  ticentij  vents  a  day,  and  tlren  make 
money.  I  cannot  say,  however,  that  this  poor  and  monoto- 
nous life,  as  it  doubtless  is,  has  any  deteriorating  effect, 
physically,  on  the  Chinese.  They  seem  usually  to  be  strong 
and  healthy,  and  unless  addicted  to  opium  smoking,  as  many 
of  them  are,  they  are  often  fine  s})ecimens  of  a  vigorous 
physical  manhood.  How  a  coolie  can  support  life,  and  do 
the  tremendously  hard  labor  which  is  expected  of  him  six- 
teen hours  out  of  the  twenty-four,  on  a  little  rice  and  fish, 
surpasses  the  foreigner's  comprehension  ;  and  yet  that  it  can 
be  done  is  proved  by  the  hundred  of  millions  of  robust  peo- 
ple in  all  parts  of  the  Chinese  Empire. 

On  our  way  from  tlie  village  we  Avent  into  a  Cliinese 
flower  garden.  These  abound  in  the  vicinity  of  Canton,  and 
are  really  very  beautiful.  Evei'ytliing  is  on  a  diminutive 
scale.  Flowering  shrubs,  orange  trees,  lemon  trees,  azalias, 
and  chrysanthemums  are  all  of  the  dwarf  variety.     Many 


.4 


I; 


I 


188 


BLOSSOMING   MANDARINS. 


orange  trees  growing  in  pots  are  loaded  with  little  oranges 
no  larger  than  the  end  of  one's  thumb.  But  the  most  curi- 
ous thing  about  these  flower  gardens  is  the  shapes  into 
which  the  shrubs  are  trained.  On  many  branches  we  found 
huge  goggle  eyes  pinned,  while  from  the  lower  branches 
porcelain  hands  reach  out  to  us  in  a  ghostly  Avay.  Below 
the  hands  Avere  often  a  pair  of  porcelain  feet  resting  on  the 
soil.  AYe  found  that  in  this  way  was  constructed  the  skele- 
ton of  a  floral  mandarin,  who,  after  a  few  weeks,  as  the 
blossoms  oi)ened  on  the  branches,  Avould  be  clothed  in  a 
gorgeous  dress  of  white  or  red  or  yellow  bloom.  Some  of 
the  mandarins  had  already  blossomed  out,  and  their  heads 
and  hands  and  porcelain  feet  appeared  from  a  beautiful 
dress  of  living  green  and  brilliant  flowers.  There  Avere  also 
in  this  garden  lions  and  unicorns,  foxes  and  buff'aloes,  Avith 
floAvery  skins,  and  goggle  eyes  of  porcelain.  The  Avhole 
effect  Avas  A'ery  curious. 

A  Chinese  mandarin  clothed  in  flowers,  or  a  lion  or  uni- 
corn in  the  same  beautiful  dress,  if  displayed  in  a  'New 
York  florist's  AvindoAV,  AA'ould  attract  such  a  croAvd  that  the 
police  Avould  luiA'e  to  clear  the  Avay.  There  AA'ere  many 
other  beautiful  things  in  this  garden,  fountains  and  arch- 
AA'ays,  bridges  OA'er  little  streams,  and  flowery  pagodas,  mak- 
ing it  as  picturesque  and  beautiful  a  place  as  could  be  found 
in  our  most  extensive  establishments  in  England  or  America. 

As  Ave  came  out  of  the  garden  Ave  passed  along  the  bor- 
ders of  canals  and  roads  lined  Avith  orange  and  lemon  trees 
and  the  beautiful  carambola,  Avith  its  three-cornered  yelloAV 
fruit  as  large  as  an  apple  hanging  in  rich  profusion  from  its 
branches.  The  carambolas  Avere  just  ripe  at  the  time  of 
our  visit  to  Canton,  and  the  deep  yelloAV,  luscious  fruit  shin- 
ing through  the  green  leaves  made  as  pretty  an  orchard 
effect  as  one  Avould  Avish  to  see. 


THE  GRIMY   GODS  OF  CHINA.  ISO 

On  our  way  back  to  our  missionary  home,  we  stepped 
into  one  of  the  common  temples,  not  a  great,  gorgeous 
temple  such  as  we  have  seen  in  Canton,  but  a  more  modest, 
suburban  shrine.  A  beautiful  grove  of  trees  surrounded  it, 
but  within  the  temple  was  the  same  squalor  and  dirt,  indif- 
ference and  irreverence,  that  we  have  seen  elsewhere. 
There  was,  to  be  sure,  a  gong  to  be  rung,  and  a  ])ig  drum  to 
be  beaten  in  order  to  wake  up  the  god,  and  by  his  side  were 
many  votive  offerings.  In  one  temple  that  we  visited,  the 
god  had  been  favored  with  several  washstands  fitted  up  with 
copper  basins.  From  the  looks  of  his  time-begrimed  face 
we  thought  he  needed  to  use  these  presents.  Another  god 
had  several  suits  of  clothing  presented  to  him.  These  hung 
on  a  chair  near  by,  though  from  their  appearance  we  judged 
that  he  had  never  put  them  on.  Still  another  had  a  hand- 
some sedan  chair  among  his  gifts,  so  that  he  could  take  a 
ride  if  he  wished. 

The  god  of  medicine  is  assiduously  fanned  by  many  of 
his  worshipers,  and  these  fans  are  taken  home  to  be  used  by 
his  friends  in  fannmg  their  sick  relatives,  thus  bringing  the 
breath  of  the  god  near  to  them. 

That  such  an  intelligent,  practical,  sensible  people,  as  the 
Chinese  undoubtedly  are  in  many  ways,  should  still  adhere 
to  these  absurd  and  silly  superstitions,  can  only  be  accounted 
for  by  the  fact  that  few  of  them  have  ever  heard  of  jin  v- 
thing  better,  and  that  the  religion  of  Christ  in  this  vast 
empire  has  3'et  had  time  to  make  but  little  headway. 

Soon  we  are  again  at  the  kind  home  which  opens  to  us  its 
hospitable  doors  after  a  most  delightful  day  on  the  river  and 
in  the  country,  tired  enough,  as  Ave  thought,  to  go  to  bed 
and  sleep  soundly  in  spite  of  the  voices  of  the  night,  which 
are  not  so  poetical  as  in  some  sections  of  the  globe.  Yet  Ave 
hear  until  Avell  on  toAvards  midniffht  the  claiiffinff  of  the 


190 


IN  THE  NIGHT  AVATCHES. 


gongs  from  the  Biuldliist  temples  on  either  side  of  our 
frieutrs  home,  alternating  Avith  the  beating  of  cymbals,  for 
this  has  been  a  high  day  and  the  god  must  be  worshiped  far 
into  the  night. 

Every  now  niid  then  a  louder  bang  indicates  the  report 
of  a  gun,  which  we  are  told  is  lired  by  the  Avatchman  on  his 
rounds  to  let  the  thieves  know  that  he  is  in  their  vicinity  and 
that  they  had  better  keep  out  of  his  way,  a  very  convenient 
thinf  for  the  thieves,  as  it  seems  to  us.  Thus,  Avith  the  bang 
of  gun  and  beat  of  drum,  and  clash  of  cymbals,  our  senses 
grow  droAVsy  as  Ave  recall  to  m  nd  the  events  of  the  day  that 
has  passed,  and  Ave  thank  God  for  a  religion  that  appeals  to 
the  head  as  Avell  as  to  the  heart,  to  the  conscience  and  not  to 
superstition,  to  the  love  of  God  and  not  to  an  undefined  fear 
of  evil,  to  the  desire  for  holiness  and  not  to  the  hope  of  gain. 
These  are  the  lessons  Avhich  the  tom-toms  and  the  fire-crack- 
ers, the  gongs  and  tlie  drums  of  the  Buddhist  temples,  teach 
us  in  the  Avatches  of  the  night. 


CirAPTP:R  XL 

OUR  STAY  IN  CHARMING  JAPAN  — SOCIAL  CUSTOMS  — SOME 
INTERESTING  PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES  —  LIFE  AND 
SCENES    ON    A    TEA    PLANTATION. 

The  Best  Preparation  for  a  New  Land  —  A  Terrible  Typlioon  —  Personal 
Experiences — "  Tlie  Lord  is  Able  to  Give  Thee  Much  More  Than 
This"  — Tlie  ;Most  Beautiful  of  Mountains— Fujiyama  in  Spotless 
Ermine —  "  Fiery  Jack"  — Yokohama  — The  Rush  of  Jinrikishas  — 
The  Capture  of  the  Man-of-War"s  ]\Icn  —  Fun  in  the  Custom  House  — 
"Crossing  the  Palm"  — A  Lesson  in  Japanese  Politeness  — Bowing  in 
Japanese  — The  Shop-keeper's  Salaam  — The  Maid  Servant's  Obeisance 

—  Receiving  Callers  — A  Hinge  in  the  Spine  — The  Ohio  Statesman's 
Mistake  — "My  Fool  of  a  Wife  "  —  Japanese  Railways  — Our  Fellow 
Passengers  —  Progressive  Japan  —  Telegraph  Lines  and  Electric  Lights 

—  Postal  Delivery  Six  Times  a  Day —  Protecting  the  Windows  — The 
Professor's  Many  Suits- The  "  Obi"  — A  Japanese  Joseph  — What  we 
Saw  from  the  Car  Window  —  A  Tea  Pluutatiou. 


OTinXG  SO  well  prepares  the  trav- 
eler for  an  introduction  to  any 
new  land  as  a  long  and  stormy 
journey  thitherward  by  sea.  Even 
the  desert  of  Sahara  Avould  ])e 
welcome  under  such  circum- 
stances ;  how  much  more  the 
beautiful  shores  of  smiling  Japan. 
So  far  as  i)i'evious  pre})aration 
is  concerned,  wo  were  made 
ampl\'  I'eadv  1)V  the  lontj:  and 
stormv  vovaae  from  IIonf>'  Konfj:. 
Earely  has  so  much  tempestuous  discomfort  been  com- 
pressed into  the  seven  dtiys  between  Hong  Kong  and 
Yokohama. 

As   we  neared  the  coast  of  Japan,  a  fearful  typhoon 

(101) 


192      THROUGH  THE  CENTER  OP  THE  TYPHOON. 

which  liad  hoen  following  in  our  wake  for  several  days, 
making  only  a  little  more  rapid  time  than  the  steamer  itself, 
overtook  us.  The  barometer  dropped  to  the  lowest  point 
ever  known  in  these  latitudes,  and  about  ten  o'clock  on  the 
night  of  November  28d,  the  wind  began  to  blow  with  "  ty- 
phoon force."  For  several  days  before,  the  wind  had  been 
"  blowing  a  gale,"  according  to  the  captain's  log  book,  but 
on  this  night  the  demons  of  the  air  seemed  to  take  to  them- 
selves seventy  times  seven  spirits  worse  than  the  first,  and 
the  Avay  they  shrieked  and  howled  and  screamed  through 
the  rigging  will  never  be  forgotten  by  the  passengers  of  the 
Peru.  Hoping  the  storm  might  blow  by.  Captain  Ward  at 
first  "  hove  to,"  to  speak  after  the  manner  of  sailors,  but, 
fearing  that  we  might  drift  upon  the  rocks  of  the  Loochoo 
Islands,  he  soon  put  on  all  steam  again,  and  drove  his  good 
ship  directly  through  the  center  of  the  typhoon,  in  order  to 
get  sufficient  sea  room. 

As  is  well  known,  a  typhoon  is  a  circular  storm  of  lim- 
ited extent,  which  revolves  about  a  comparatively  calm  area. 
After  plowing  our  way  through  the  eastern  edge  of  the 
typhoon  for  some  two  hours,  we  struck  the  calmer  center, 
and  for  a  little  while  the  passengers  congratulated  them- 
selves that  the  storm  was  over.  But,  alas !  our  congratula- 
tions were  premature,  for,  after  half  an  hour  of  comparative 
quiet,  the  Peru  dashed  into  the  Avestern  edge  of  the  cyclone, 
and  all  the  demons  in  the  rigging  began  to  scream  and  howl 
and  shriek  with  redoubled  fury.  For  two  hours  more  it  was 
with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  we  kept  in  our  berths,  hold- 
ing to  the  storm  braces  with  both  hands,  and  thus  prevent- 
ing ourselves  from  being  pitched  headlong  into  the  mass  of 
trunks  and  rugs,  tumblers  and  Avater  bottles,  hairbrushes 
and  life  preservers,  which  were  jumbled  together  in  inde- 
scribable confusion  upon  the  state-room  floor. 


FUJIYAMA,   THE  BEAUTIFUL.  193 

As  the  gray  dawn  began  to  show  in  what  part  of  the 
state-room  the  window  was  situated,  the  wind  somewhat 
moderated,  but  the  waves  were  as  high  as  ever.  Reaching 
down  into  the  confused  mass  of  ilchris  which  lay  on  the 
state-room  floor,  Mrs.  Pilgrim  picked  up  one  of  tlie  calen- 
dars which  our  thoughtful  friends  at  home  had  given  us,  with 
the  follovring  cheering  message  for  November  twenty -fourth 
(Thanksgiving  day,  by  the  way),  "  The  Lord  is  able  to  give 
thee  much  more  than  this." 

Never  did  that  promise  from  Holy  Writ  have  such  a  sin- 
ister significance  before.  However,  as  the  storm  cleared 
away  and  the  sun  appeared  later  in  the  day,  and  as  the 
waves  somewhat  moderated,  though  still  "mountainous," 
according  to  the  log  book  of  the  Peru,  we  felt  the  promise 
was  not  so  inappropriate  after  all,  and  there  were  many 
things  to  be  thankful  for  on  this  Thanksgiving  Day,  even 
though  the  rolling,  pitching  dinner  table  did  prevent  our 
doing  full  justice  to  the  Thanksgiving  turkey  and  cranberry 
sauce. 

After  this  experience,  it  can  readily  be  seen  that  we 
eagerly  awaited  the  first  glimpse  of  the  lovely  shores  of 
Japan. 

Early  on  the  morning  of  November  twenty -sixth,  they 
broke  upon  us.  There  was  Fujiyama,  the  most  beautiful 
mountain  in  the  world,  which  figures  on  innumerable  screens 
and  fans  and  teacups,  rising  b<ifore  us  in  all  his  regal 
splendor.  No  wonder  that  the  Japanese  love  their  sacred 
mountain ;  a  far  more  dull  and  phlegmatic  people  would  have 
their  veins  stirred  by  such  a  sight. 

This  first  .view  of  Fujiyama  Avhich  we  enjo^^ed  was  per- 
haps the  best  that  could  be  obtained.  The  early  snow  of 
approaching  winter  clothed  him  in  a  spotless  ermine  mantle 
to  his  very  feet.     Every  part  of  this  most  symmetrical  and 


104  OUR  WELCOME  TO  JAPAN. 

lovely  cono  was  of  dazzling  wliiteiioss,  and,  as  the  Eastern 
sun  arose,  a  rosy  tinge  s})read  its  glow  from  the  topmost 
crater  to  the  lowest  fringe  of  the  glistening  garment. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  steamer  a  volcano  was  pulling 
out  hugev<;lumes  of  smoke.  "  Fiery  Jack  "  the  sailors  called 
it.  On  both  sides  the  carefully  cultivated  fields  of  this  park- 
like fairy  land  came  down  close  to  the  water's  edge.  Little 
sailboats  and  Japanese  junks  danced  about  us  on  every  side. 
Everything  on  sea  and  shore  looked  its  brightest  and  best. 
The  terrors  of  the  stormy  passage  were  forgotten,  and  Ave 
felt  that  nature  conspired  with  the  experiences  of  the  past 
few  days  to  make  our  welcome  to  Japan  most  bright  and 
memorable. 

A  feAV  hours  later  and  the  I*<')'u  droj^ped  her  anchor 
in  Yokohama  harbor,  and  \\q  gladly  exchanged  the  deck  of 
the  shij)  for  more  substantial  teri'd  Jirma. 

Yokohanui,  Avith  its  large  English  concession,  its  substan- 
tial Avarehouses,  and  its  harbor  full  of  the  A'^essels  of  all 
nations,  is  not  a  typical  Japanese  city,  and  yet  there  are 
many  things  to  interest  the  traveler,  Avho  has  not  as  yet  been 
sated  Avith  the  temples  and  palaces,  the  picturesque  villages 
and  beautiful  natural  scenery  of  fair  Japan. 

For  instance,  as  aa'c  stepped  ashore  from  the  steam  launch 
a  Avliole  army  of  jinrikisha  men  came  after  us,  each  insisting 
that  Ave  should  patronize  his  particular  baby  carriage.  But 
first  our  baggage  had  to  be  passed  through  the  Custom 
House,  and  Ave  Avere  obliged  for  a  time  to  disappoint  our 
eager  friends,  Avho  served  as  hackmen  and  horses  combined. 

"While  Ave  Avere  undergoing  the  trying  ordeal  of  a  Custom 
House  inspection  some  fifty  sailors  from  a  British  man-of- 
Avar  roAved  ashore.  Then  Avhat  rushing  and  jamming  and 
pushing  and  shouting  there  Avas  on  the  part  of  the  jinrikisha 
men!     The  eager  cabmen  at  Forty -second  street  station. 


CURIOUS  OFFICIALS.  195 

New  York,  are  not  to  be  coni}){ire(l  to  their  brethren  of 
Yokohiuna.  Two  jinrikislia  men  ])itche(l  upon  each  jolly- 
tar  and  bore  him  away  bodily  to  one  of  the  little  carriages 
in  waiting,  and  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  the  story 
every  sailor  was  bundled  into  a  jinrikislia  and  wliisked 
away ;  we  fear  to  no  very  reputable  abitling  place,  for  land- 
sharks  abound  in  Yokohama  as  in  every  seai)ort,  and  the 
jinrikisha  men  have  the  reputation  of  being  subsidized  by  the 
worst  of  them. 

Going  through  the  Custom  House  is  oftentimes  a  serious 
matter  in  Japan,  not  that  the  duties  are  very  high,'  but  the 
Custom  House  officials'  curiosity  is  very  great.  Anything 
done  up  in  a  bundle  seemed  to  excite  their  susi)icion  at  once, 
and  they  took  a  boyish  delight  in  finding  out  that  one  pack- 
age contained  a  few  worthless  seashells,  another  a  set  of 
chess  men,  each  one  of  which  had  to  be  taken  from  its  box 
and  examined  separately,  and  still  another,  a  double  Chinese 
sword,  wliich  one  official  took  from  its  sheath  and  made 
playful  lunges  at  all  the  others  who  surrounded  him. 

However,  a  little  harmless  curiosity  on  the  part  of  these 
youthful  inspectors  is  a  venial  fault  compared  with  the  rude-  j 

ness  and  corruption  of  many  of  our  customs  officials  at  \ 

home.     One  can  afford  to  spend  a  little  time  at  the  Custom  k 

House  while  the  inmost  recesses  of  his  trunks  are  beine:  ran- 
sacked,  if  only  he  is  treated  Avith  politeness  meanwhile, 
and  is  not  brazenly  asked  to  "  to  cross  the  i)alm  "  of  the  official, 
as  I  have  been  invited  to  do  ere  this  in  New  York  city. 

Now  that  we  have  actually  set  foot  on  Japanese  soil,  we 
may  as  Avell  take  a  lesson  in  Japanese  politeness,  for  from 
the  lowest  porter  to  the  emperor  himself  this  is  an  ingrained 
characteristic,  and  unless  we  are  careful,  our  brusque  and 
prompt  western  way  may  shock  this  courtliest  of  all 
peoples. 


196  A   LESSON   IN   POLITENESS. 

Even  the  Custom  House  otHcials  bow  low  when  we 
present  our  keys  and  recjuest  them  to  examine  our  trunks, 
and  the  jinrikisha  men  almost  bend  themselves  to  the  dust 
before  us  in  their  polite  entreaties  that  we  favor  them  with 
our  patronage. 

As  we  g'o  u])  the  street,  if  we  ste])  into  a  Japanese  store 
to  buy  so  much  as  a  sheet  of  ])aper,  we  are  greeted  with 
a  low  salaam  by  the  ])ro])rietor,  who  deems  it  (piite  awkward 
to  go  <lirectly  to  business  without  a  few  polite  })reliminai'y 
genuflet^tions. 

AVlien  we  reach  our  boarding-house  a  smiling  man-ser- 
vant stands  upon  the  jiiazza  to  take  our  baggage  with  tiie 
most  gracious  bow,  tind  the  door  is  opened  by  a  maid-ser- 
vant who  almost  touches  the  floor  with  her  forehead,  so  low 
is  her  obeisance  as  she  admits  us  Avithin  the  penetralia. 

When  we  go  upon  the  platform  to  make  an  address  our 
audience  often  rises  and  bows,  and  when  we  begin  to  s])eak 
it  is  the  })roper  thing  to  make  as  low  a  salute  <is  our  Ameri- 
can stiffness  and  previous  training  will  allow.  Upon  this 
the  audience  all  bow  most  graciously  once  more.  At  the 
conclusion  of  the  address  the  speaker  bows  again,  and  the 
audience  Returns  the  salute. 

But  it  is  when  Ave  receive  callers  that  the  most  trying 
politeness  is  exjiected.  The  caller  bows  and  we  bow,  and 
then  the  caller  bows  again  and  we  bow  still  lower.  Again, 
our  Ja])anese  visitor  bends  his  body  in  a  tiiird  genuHection, 
and  we  foUow  suit,  doing  oui*  best  to  hoin  in  Ja])anese  if  we 
cannot  speak  Ja])anese. 

If  we  were  well  trained  we  siiould  not  lift  u})  our  stoo})iiig 
figure  until  our  visitor  had  begun  to  raise  liimself  from  his 
salutatory  i)osture,  and  we  furtively  glance  out  of  the  corners 
of  our  eyes  to  see  if  ho  is  not  almost  through  with  his  bow- 
ing.     Sometimes  a  ])eculiar  little  guttoral  grunt  indicates 


GENUFLECTIONS  AND  CIRCUMLOCUTIONS. 


197 


that  the  visitor  has  finished  his  genuflections,  and  tliat  Ave 
can  raise  our  own  hodies  to  an  upi-iglit  posture  with  ])i'o- 
priety.  I  very  nuicli  fear  tiiat  I  liave  many  times  broken 
all  the  laws  in  the  Japanese  code  of  ])ropriety  and  courtesy, 
but  I  trust  I  shall  be  forgiven,  and  that  niy  rudeness  will  be 
charged  to  a  lack  of  early  training,  and  to  my  imperfect 
western  notions  of  civility. 

One  important  factor  in  the  Japanese  obeisance  is  to  get 
the  hinge  in  the  right  ])ai't  of  your  anatomy.  The  brus(jue 
Yankee  and  stiff  Englislnnan  bow  sim])ly  with  their  heads 
and  the  hinge  they  use  is  at  the  top  of  their  spinal  columns, 
but  no  such  indiffei'ent  bobbing  of  the  head  will  satisfy  the 
Japanese  denuinds.  One  must  put  the  hinge  lower  down,  at 
the  base  of  his  sj)inal  column,  and  bow  with  his  whole  body 
instead  of  the  to])  of  his  liead.  A  few  days  of  ])ractice  will 
make  one  fairly  ])i'(>(icieiit  in  this  superficial  part  of  the 
Japanese  code  of  eti(piett(!. 

liut  not  only  is  their  jioliteness  a  matter  of  bows  and 
genuflections;  it  is  as  fully  indicated  in  their  language. 
There  is  a  ])olite  language  which  is  (piite  different  from  that 
used  on  ordinary  occasions,  and  cannot  even  be  understood 
by  those  familiar  only  with  the  colhKiuial  tongue.  Even  the 
humblest  peojJe  use  the  })olitest  circumlocutions  on  every 
possible  occasion. 

For  instance,  when  we  knock  at  the  door,  the  ])erson 
inside  cries  out  "Ohairi,"  which  means,  ''AVe  welcome  your 
honorable  return."  When  one  greets  a  friend  on  the  street 
he  says,  ''Ohayo,"  which  means  literally,  "Honorable 
early"  ;  or  if  translated  into  Irish  it  would  be:  ''The  top  o' 
the  mornin'  to  yez!" 

It  is  said  an  Ohio  statesman  was  once  sent  to  a  certiiin 
port  in  Japan  as  consul.  As  he  lande<l  on  the  shores  of  the 
country  which  was  to  be  his  home  lie  heard  one  and  another 


!      ! 


198 


BY    RAIL  TO   TOKIO. 


say  in  vory  good  Enj^^lisli  as  Ik^  thought,  Oliio  (Oluiyo).  "I 
dochiro,"  siiid  this  son  of  the  iiiickc^ye  stato,  "1  know  they 
were  a  well  <!ducat<;d  j)e()})le  in  this  land,  l)ut  I  didn't  su})poso 
they  knew  tlu;  vc.vy  state  I  came  iVoni." 

A  i'l'iend  of  iiiitui  ttjjls  me  that  his  Japanese  servant  eanio 
to  him  one  day  and  saiti,  as  Ik;  bowed  low  to  tlu;  floor,  "Will 
my  most  worthy  master  suflV;)'  his  most  humble  servant  to 
visit  ilu!  honorable^  bath  that  la;  may  wash  his  (ilthy  body?" 
It  is  ikhmIIcss  to  say  that  after  such  a  [)olite  r(!(juest  permis- 
sion was  at  once  granted. 

Jai)an(;se  polit(in<!ss  consists  not  only  in  loading  the  ])er- 
sons  spoken  to  with  all  kinds  of  com|)lim(!iitary  adjectives, 
but  also  in  d('|)r<!ciating  one's  sell'.  Such  a  collo(piy  as  this  is 
often  heard  in  ,Iiipanes(!  highways: 

"How  is  your  honorabhi  wih;  this  morning?" 

"f  thaidc  you,  honorabh;  sii',  my  fool  of  a  wife  is  very 
well  this  moi'niug.'" 

And  y(!t  the  second  sjx'akcsr  may  be  a  most  loving  and 
exeni[)lai'y  husband;  lit;  only  wishes  to  be  ])roi)ei'ly  ])olit(;  in 
depr(!ciating  his  own. 

Ther(!  is  not  v<!ry  much  to  detain  (me  in  Yokoluima,  and 
we  will  soon  tak(i  the  train  for  Tokio,  distant  oiu;  hour  by 
I'ail.  'J'hcrc;  seeuis  to  be;  an  incongi-uily  Ixitween  the  rush- 
ing, bustling  lif(^  of  a  I'ailway  station,  and  the  Oriental 
throngs  that  ci'owd  it.  The  woodcni  clogs,  woi-n  by  men, 
Women,  and  children,  clatt(!r  on  tlu;  stone  Moor  of  the  station 
like  so  many  castan(!ts  and  make:  almost  a,  <lcafening  sound. 
Instead  of  s|)i'uce  business  men  and  "tailor-made  gii'ls,"  such 
as  oiu!  is  accustomed  to  see  thronging  our'  i'ailway  cars  at 
home,  people  clad  in  practically  the  same  gai'b  which  was  in 
fashion  a  thousand  years  ago,  step  into  thest;  most  moderi  of 
all  vehicles  to  Ix;  whii'led  away  as  fast  as  steam  can  carry 
them.     Something  seems  to  be  out  of  place;    whether  the 


PKOfJKESSIVE    MODKllN  JAPAN. 


10!) 


Jjipanftso  costuiiio  and  woochjn  clo'^s,  oi-  our  uinctfu'ntli  cen- 
tiu'v  ni()(l(;  of  Icjcomotion,  I  sliall  not  pi'etiMid  to  say. 

However,  there  seonis  to  \h)  iio  tliong-Iit  of  incon<^ruity  on 
tlu!  ])art  of  our  fellow  j)as.s('n;.<ei*s,  foi'  tli(!  Japanese  Irive 
tak(!n  to  raili'oads  and  steamships,  to  teh^phones  and  eh;cti'ic 
liglits,  as  thouf^h  ih(\y  wc^re  to  the  manner  horn. 

Th(i  mod(;i'n  .)apanes<!  is  nothin<^'  if  not  j)i'o<^ressive. 
Every  new  inv(Uition,  evc^ry  hitest  hihoi'-savin<^  contrivance^ 
he  is  ready  to  <'xaniine  and  adopt  if  it  commends  itself  to 
Ids  judgment.  Well-appointed  I'ailroads  coniUH-t  one  end  of 
Japan  with  another.  A  |)erf('ct  network  of  t('legra,|)h  wii'es 
€onne(!t  all  leading  cities,  hmandescent  electric  lights  (jften 
flash  from  the  most  ]iuml)le  stores  and  dwcdlings.  In  tla; 
leading  cities  the  })ostman  delivers  his  message  six  timers  a 
day,  and  wluirever  we  go  we  find  that  Ja,j)an\s  senses  are  all 
alert  to  the  first  intimations  of  pi'ogress  in  any  direction. 

In  some  n^spects  th<5  Japanese;  I'ailway  system  is  even 
))(!tter  than  ours.  At  least,  more  ruiv.  is  taken  of  life;  and 
liml),  no  gi'ade  crossings  ai'(!  allowe^d  at  stations,  and  fatal 
accideids  an;  of  veiy  rai'(!  occu)'r<'Mce. 

The  cars  ai'e  mostly  after  the  iMiglish  pattern,  and  di- 
vided into  llrst,  sin-ond,  and  third-class  compartments.  The 
iirst-class  compartnmnts  are  very  rai'ely  used  in  .Japan,  even 
by  "lords,  fools,  and  Amei-icans."  In  fact,  after  riding 
many  hundred  nnles  on  .Japanese  railroads,  I  rememl)ei'  to 
have  s(HMi  hut  a  singh;  occupant  of  a,  lirst-edass  carriage. 
The  second-chiss  is  used  somewhat  spai'ingiy,  whilethe  third- 
class  on  eveiy  train  is  crowded  with  vivacious  .Japanese 
ti'avelers. 

As  glass  is  a  modern  inv(Mition  which,  strangely  enough, 
lias  not  heen  largely  introduced  into  countiy  districts,  Jap- 
anese windows  generally  being  made  of  rice  papei*,  the  glass 
car  windows  in  third-class  compai'tments  avo  crossed  with 


200 


OUR  FELLOW  PASSENGERS. 


i 


lines  of  white  paint,  so  that  native  travelers  from  the  rural 
districts,  who  never  saw  glass  before,  may  not  unwittingly 
put  their  heads  through  the  windows.  The  bills  of  the  Im- 
perial Eailway  Co7iipany  for  broken  glass  became  so  lai'ge 
that  at  last  this  device  for  showing  the  rural  passenger  that 
there  Avas  something  between  him  and  the  outside  world 
was  adopted. 

If  you  please,  my  readers,  we  will  take  a  second-class 
car  to  Tokio,  and,  without  being  rude,  we  can  furtively  ex- 
amine our  fellow  passengers  and  their  attire.  After  a  few 
days  we  shall  become  so  accustomed  to  the  national  dress 
it  will  be  difficult  for  us  to  describe  it ;  so  we  must  make 
the  most  of  our  first  impressions. 

On  the  seat  in  front  of  us  is  a  Japanese  gentleman  in 
European  clothes,  but  his  ill-fitting  coat  and  shabby  Derljy 
hat  are  not  nearly  so  picturesque  as  the  garments  of  the 
friend  by  his  side.  Not  being  a  woman  or  a  man  milliner,  I 
cannot  describe  these  garments  with  very  good  effect,  but 
must  content  myself  with  saying  that  our  Japanese-clad  fel- 
low passenger  wears  tight-fitting  trousers,  nearly  hidden  by 
a  loose  upper  garment  coming  nearly  to  his  feet,  and  bound 
about  the  Avaist  by  a  kind  of  scarf. 

In  fact,  our  friend  on  the  opposite  seat,  since  it  is  cold 
weather,  seems  to  wear  several  upper  garments,  for  this  is  a 
way  the  Japanese  have  of  keeping  warm.  They  do  not 
build  fires  or  introduce  steam  heat,  or  even  close  their  win- 
dows and  doors,  but  they  add  one  garment  to  another,  until 
it  is  difficult  to  tell  how  large  the  kernel  under  the  many 
husks  ma}"  be.  The  story  is  told  of  a  professor  in  a  famous^ 
school  Avho  had  the  reputation  of  wearing  more  clothes  than 
any  other  man  on  the  faculty.  The  students,  exaggerating 
the  truth,  as  students  Avill,  circulated  the  story  that  he  com- 
monly wore  thirty -one  suits  of  clothes.     A  friend  of  mine 


SCPERFLUOUS  COATS. 


301 


made  bold  to  approacli  him  on  the  subject,  telling  him  the 
story  that  was  circulating  among  the  students,  whereupon 
he  gravely  replied  that  lie  could  not  account  for  such  a 
report,  as  he  had  never,  to  his  knowledge,  worn  more  tlum 
thirteen  suits  at  one  time,  unless  the  students  had  transposed 
the  ligures  (31  for  13),  and  so  the  mistake  liad  arisen. 

But  the  gentleman  in  front  of  us  in  the  car  probably 
wears  not  more  than  half  a  dozen  garments  on  this  journey, 
and  makes  up  for  his  superfluous  coats  by  wearing  nothing 

i 


DRESS  OP   JAPANESE   WOMEN,    SHOWING   THE   OIU. 

on  his  head.  On  entering  the  car  he  slips  off  his  wooden 
shoes  very  easily,  as  they  are  only  held  on  his  feet  by  a  cord 
passing  between  his  big  toe  and  the  next  one ;  then,  putting 
his  stocking  feet  on  the  foot-warmer  filled  with  hot  water, 
the  onl}^  method  of  heating  these  cars,  he  settles  himself 
comfortably  for  his  journey. 

Not  far  from  the  gentleman  opposite  sits  his  wife.     Her 
garments  are,  of  course,  quite  beyond  my  powers  of  descrip- 
tion.    It  is  only  necessary  to  say  that  they  are  loose,  flow- 
ing, and  graceful,  and  that  on  her  back  is  a  curious  affair 
13 


20'^ 


AN  INDICATION  OP  RANK. 


called  an  "  obi,"  or  sash,  on  which  she  greatly  prides  her- 
self. It  is  made  of  linest  silk,  and  her  rank  in  society  is 
very  largely  indicated  by  the  obi  which  she  wears.  Her 
head,  too,  is  bare,  though  her  profusion  of  black  haii  is  so 
fantastically  arranged  that  she  does  not  need  any  other 
head-gear.  On  her  feet  are  the  same  kind  of  clumsy  wooden 
shoes  her  husband  Avears. 

Between  them  is  their  little  child,  the  joy  and   pride, 


A  RURAL  SCENE  IN  JAPAN. 


doubtless,  of  the  father's  and  mother's  heart.  He  is  arrayed 
in  a  most  gorgeous  suit,  a  miniature  reproduction  of  his 
mother's,  only  in  brighter  colors.  Joseph  himself  was  not 
more  favored  when  a  boy  than  this  little  Japanese  lad. 

But  the  objects  of  special  interest  are  not  all  within  the 
car  windows,  by  any  means.  "We  never  get  tired  of  the 
ever-changing  panorama  without,  made  up  of  mountain  and 
meadow,  forest  trees  and  cultivated  fields,  bright  costumes 
and  quaint  cottages,  and  many  a  scene  of  rustic  comfort  and 
content. 


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32 

A  CHARMING   PANORAMA. 


205 


il.  ? 


One  of  the  most  interesting  sights  is  a  tea  plantation. 
Many  of  these  we  skirt  in  our  railway  journeys  in  Japan. 
The  long  row  of  tea  plants  look  like  the  bunches  of  box  with 
which  the  borders  of  old-fashioned  flower  garcbns  were  once 
made,  only  the  tea  plants  are  much  larger.  AVhen  the  crop  is 
matured  the  tea  garden  is  full  of  pickers,  native  men  and 
women,  in  bright  costumes,  working  side  by  side,  their  gay 
attire  contrasting  prettily  with  the  fresh  green  of  the  tea 
leaves.  Tliese  bright  beings,  who,  we  fear,  are  not  as  radi- 
ant as  they  look,  stop  their  work  as  the  train  rumbles  by,  to 
gaze  after  the  retreating  cars,  stirred  by  the  same  wonder 
which  a  rushing  railway  train  always  excites  in  every  part 
of  the  world,  however  common  the  sight  may  be. 

Thus  we  journey  on,  stopping  at  picturesque  little  vil- 
lages, with  thatch-roofed  cottages;  past  miles  and  miles 
of  fields  cultivated  with  most  accurate  nicety,  every  one 
looking  like  a  market  garden  in  the  suburbs  of  a  great  city ; 
past  beautiful  bamboo  forests ;  past  shrines  and  large  tem- 
ples and  emblems  of  Butldhist  worship,  set  up,  as  m  the  days 
of  old,  "  under  every  green  tree  " ;  past  beautiful  hills  and 
fertile  valleys,  winding  rivers  and  canals  teeming  with  life, 
until,  all  too  soon,  so  interesting  is  this  brief  journey,  the 
cars  roll  into  the  station  of  the  great  city  of  Tokio  —  the 
largest  in  all  the  realm,  the  capital  of  the  kingdom,  the  Mi- 
kado's city  of  the  Mikado's  empire. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  MIKADO'S  CITY  AND  THE  MIKADO'S  SUBJECTS. 

Tokio,  its  Pfxrks,  its  Temples,  and  its  Palace  —  Its  University  —  A  Study 
of  Fish  Parasites  —  What  AMssionaries  have  done  —  The  Seisniologleal 
Department  —  An  Artittcl..!  Earthquake  — Exceptional  Earthquake 
Privileges  —  Wheat  and  Chaflf  —  Canton  and  Tokio,  or  China  venus 
Japan  —  The  Frenchman  of  the  East  —  A  Japanese  House  —  No  Doors, 
No  Windows,  No  Chimneys  —  A  AValk  in  a  Country  Village  — The 
Country  Bakery  —  A  Rice  Mill  —  Division  of  Labor  —  An  Initiation  into 
the  Art  of  Orange  Eating  —  The  Japanese  Shoe  Shop  —  The  Villainous 
Daikon  —  Prices  in  Japan  —  A  Pot  of  Tea  for  Two  Cents  —  A  Japanese 
Dinner  in  a  Japanese  Hotel  —  The  Curious  Crowds  at  the  Window  — 
Character  Studies  —  The  Motornien  of  the  East  —  Surprising  Endurance 

—  The  Hilarious  Jinrikisha  Men  —  The  Waitress  and  her  Odd  Position 

—  Paying  our  Reckoning. 


lAMOUS  and  imposing  as  are  its 
many  "lions,"  the  one  tiling  that 
impressed  me  most  strongly  in 
Tokio  was  the  Imperial  Univer- 
sity. To  find  in  this  Oriental 
land  a  university  in  many  re- 
spects the  peer  of  Cambridge  or 
Oxford,  Heidelberg  or  Harvard, 
is  a  surprise  to  most  people  who 
considered  themselves  tolerably 
well  versed  in  Japanese  affairs. 
The  buildings  of  the  Imperial 
University,  to  be  sure,  are  not  equal  to  the  venerable  piles 
which  lend  their  ancient  charm  to  an  English  or  German 
University  town ;  but  even  in  buildings  and  equipment  the 

Imperial  University  of  Japan  is  not  far  behind  many  vener- 

(306) 


A  scientist's  ambition.  ?07 

able  schools  of  other  hinds.  IJut  when  one  comes  to  examine 
the  work  in  biology,  chemistry,  the  science  of  engineering, 
and  other  departments  of  learning  leading  to  j)ractical  re- 
sults, he  finds  this  is  not  a  whit  behind  the  great  schools  of 
the  world. 

In  the  biological  department  we  saw  a  graduate  student 
famous  the  world  over  for  his  studies  of  fish  parasites.  For 
years  he  has  been  making  microscopic  examinations  of  these 
minute  enemies  whicli  })rey  upon  the  finny  tribe,  and  his  re- 
searches have  provoked  the  favorable  comment  of  scientiiic 
men  in  all  parts  of  the  world.  As  I  approached  his  labora- 
tory he  had  just  discovered  a  new  parasite,  which  he  showed 
me  with  considerable  satisfaction,  imprisoned  as  it  was 
between  the  glasses  of  his  slide.  He  expects  to  devote  his 
life  to  the  study  of  fish  parasites,  though  he  is  gradually 
coming  to  the  belief  tiiat  his  ambition  has  taken  too  wide  a 
range,  and  that  he  ought  to  devote  himself  to  the  parasites 
of  7narine  fish  altogether. 

As  he  is  now  a  very  young  man,  with  doubtless  forty  or 
fifty  years  of  hard  work  before  him,  I  should  think  that  he 
might  before  he  dies  make  considerable  progress  in  the  ])ur- 
suit  of  his  favorite  study,  if  he  confines  himself  to  a  suffi- 
ciently narrow  range.  I  sincerely  hope  that  my  friend  of 
the  Imperial  University  will  not  have  the  same  cause  for  re- 
gret as  the  famous  Greek  student  of  the  dative  case,  who 
reproached  himself  on  his  death-bed  that  he  had  taken  so 
large  a  subject  and  had  not  devoted  himself  altogether  to 
the  dative  case  of  the  Greek  article.  This  example  does  not 
stand  alone.  In  other  departments  also  the  same  careful 
and  highly  specialized  work  is  accomplished. 

In  the  early  days  the  University  was  manned  largely  by 
foreign  professors,  and  the  chief  credit  for  its  establishment 
and  progress  is  due  largely  to  Christian  missionaries,  as  was 


208 


BARTHgUAKE   PRIVILEGES. 


the  case  with  almost  every  liigh  ^nu\o  (ioUc^o  in  tlio  far 
P^iist.  In  .liipun  os|)(>(;iiil  honor  is  (Uio  to  Dr,  Vrrhock  of  the 
J)utc:h  Ktifoi'incd  IJoanI,  wiio,  in  the  b«'<:;innin^,  more  than 
any  otlicr  man  iiilhuMUMid  tiu^  ^ovornnicnt  in  the  estal)lish- 
incnt  and  (hivclopnicnt  of  i\w  university  idea.  Of  lato 
years,  liowever,  as  in  all  other  depai'lnionts,  the  ^overnnunit 
is  hrin;^in<i^  the  Iinpei-ial  University  and  ail  lower  scliools 
nioi'e  and  more  un«ler  the  control  of  .lapanes(!  teachers. 
"Jajjan  for  the  Japanese,"  is  the  cry  of  recent  days,  and 
forei<^n  teacliers  are  lar<^ely  bein;^  dischai'^ed  and  their 
places  filled  by  native  Japanese,  even  in  the  teaching  of  the 
English  lan<rua<^e  itscsif.  While  willin*^  to  adopt  everything* 
that  tliey  think  is  best  in  modern  civilization,  the  Jajjanese 
are  evidently  bound  to  be  free  from  de[)endence  on  foreign- 
ers at  tin;  earliest  possible  moment. 

As  one  walks  throu<^h  the  halls,  enters  the  spacious 
library,  and  views  the  splendid  e<iuipment  of  the  engineering 
de])artnient  of  the  university,  he  stands  amazed  at  tiie 
modern  progress  of  this  ancient  nation.  There  is  no  j)haso 
of  scientiUc  thought  familiar  to  the  Western  world  which  is 
not  almost  ecpially  familiar  to  this  Island  Empire  of  the 
Orient.  Every  latest  conti-ivance,  every  labor-saving  ma- 
chine is  examined  and  a])propriated  if  considered  worthy. 
In  the  Seism()h)gical  department  of  the  university  are  prob- 
ably the  most  accurate  and  delicate  instruments  for  comput- 
ing the  direction  and  vibration  of  earthquakes  to  be  found  in 
the  world.  The  professor  in  this  department  set  the  delicate 
clock-like  machinery  in  motion  for  us,  thus  producing  a 
miniature  artificial  eartluiuake  that  we  might  see  how  the 
nicely  adjusted  nuichines,  with  their  automatic  fingers, 
marked  the  slightest  vibration  in  the  earth's  crust.  Tokio, 
by  the  way,  is  a  very  favorable  place  for  such  a  de})ai'tment 
of  study,  for  scores  of  times  a  year  it  thrills  and  (juakes  with 


THE  CROWN  OK  JAPAN  H   CIVILIZATION. 


209 


Hubtorraneiin  niovonu'iits.  In  lact  its  cnrtlKiuuko  opportu- 
nitios  iuv  uni(pio  uiul  excoptioiial. 

Tlui  contnist  l)otwcon  tho  ('liiiu'so  and  -lapaiioso  is  dis- 
cerned by  no  one  nioro  plaiidy  than  by  him  who  travels 
direct  from  Canton  to  Tokio.  In  the  former  city  is  n'pre- 
sented  tho  old  educational  system  <jt'  tlui  Orient,  in  the 
dro.iry  exumiiuition  hall,  with  its  ehiven  hundred  cells,  empty 
and  desei'ted,  except  for  nine  days,  in  tin?  coui-so  of  three 
years.  The  su[)remo  test  of  scholarship  durin<^  those  nine 
days  of  examination  is,  as  I  have  already  stated,  the  ability 
to  write  an  essay  on  some  t(;xt  of  Confucius ;  the  sole  stand- 
ard for  civil  service  pi'omotion,  a  •^•ood  literary  style,  and 
ai)tness  to  write  some  incomprehensible  pa'^es  upon  an  un- 
fathomabUi  subject.  No  lan<^ua^('s  are  studied  there,  no  In- 
ductive Philosophy,  no  Chemistry,  niol()<,^y,  Geolof^y,  liotany, 
no  engineering  or  mining  departments,  no  instruction  in 
shi|)-l)uilding  or  architecture ;  but  on(;  dreary  monotonous 
griiul  on  Ccmfucius  and  Confucianism.  The  old  sage  still 
dominates  every  man,  wonuin,  and  child  in  China,  excei)t 
tho  few  who  are  emancipated  by  tho  religion  of  (Jhrist. 

In  Japan  how  dilferent !  Here  arc  railroads  and  steam- 
boats, th(5  latest  electrical  invotitions,  and  most  nu)dern  theo- 
ries of  ship-building  aiul  mining,  agriculture  and  the  me- 
chanic arts,  and  the  crown  of  all  this  modern  civilization  is 
the  Im})erial  University  of  Tokio.  Here  Confucius  takes 
the  back  seat,  and  Galileo  and  Fi-ancis  JJacon,  Isaac  Kewton 
and  Ilerschel,  Huxley  and  Darwin  come  to  the  front. 

Perhaps  this  smUleu  advance  in  modern  civilization  is 
not  altogether  an  unmixed  good.  Doubtless  numy  evils 
have  followed  in  the  train  of  this  nineteenth  century  civiliz- 
ation which  has  svept  with  such  a  con(|U(n'ing  march  over 
the  empire  oi  Japan,  Doubtless  there  has  been  much  chaff 
mixed  with  the  wheat,  and  sometimes,  in  all  probability,  the 


D""IH^JL" 


310 


THE   FRENCHMAN   OF  THE   OLD   WORLD. 


wheat  lias  been  ilii-own  away,  and  tlu^  clialT  of  false  ])liil- 
osopliy  and  materialism  i-etained.  Nevertheless,  the  con- 
trast between  tlie  thousand-year-old  Examination  Hall  of 
Canton  and  the  Imperial  University  of  Tokio  ivveals  the 
inherent  diifei'encc  between  the  two  <ri'eat  nations  of  the 
Orient.  Eno;lisli-speaking  ])eo])le  are  too  a[)t  to  lump 
Orientals  together,  and  to  see  but  little  difi'ei-ence  between 
the  almond-eyed  nations  of  the  Avorld. 

An  American  religious  pa])er  once  gravely  announced 
that  "llev.  Mr.  So-and-So  was  al)out  to  start  as  a  missionary 
to  China  and  Ja])an,"  as  though  either  of  these  nations  w(M'e 
not  quite  enough  to  tax  tlu^  ])owors  of  the  averages  Ameri- 
can missionary.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  lliei'e  is  far  more  dif- 
ference between  the  Chinese  and  Japanese  than  betw(>en  the 
Englishman  and  Frenchman,  or  the  (Jerman  aiul    Russian. 

The  Japanese  is  the  Frenchman  of  the  Old  AVorld,  as  has 
often  been  renuirked  ;  volatile,  mercurial,  easily  moved  to 
adopt  a  new  ])lan,  but  often  iickle  in  his  rent(Miti()n  of  it,  he 
is  endowed  with  the  sti-ong  ])oints,  and  doubtless  many  of 
the  weaknesses,  of  the  (Jeltic  nations  of  Eurojjc.  lo  watch 
the  development  of  this  new  France  in  these  Eastern  seas 
will  be  a  most  interesting  studv  for  the  future  ethnolooist. 

In  one  respect,  however,  Japan  is  different  from  France, 
i'oi-  it  ])ossesses  no  vast  ca])ital  of  overwhelming  importance, 
like  J'aris.  If  ''Paris  is  France,"  Tokio,  though  the  most 
important  city,  is  by  no  means  Japan. 

A  few  days  after  our  arrival  in  Yokohama  we  took  a 
journey  into  i-ui'al  Japan,  llei-e  in  tlu^  country  districts  we 
find  the  Japanese  at  home.  He  has  adopted  no  foreign  cos- 
tume, and  ])ut  on  no  Parisian  aii-s.  He  has  the  telegraph 
and  electric  light,  to  be  sure,  and  in  many  ])laces  the  rail- 
road train ;  but  in  all  essential  particulars  the  Ja|)an  of  to- 
day is  the  Jaj)an  of  a  thousand  yeai's  ago. 


A   VILT.A(JE   STREET. 


211 


Lot  me  tiiko  you  on  a  walU  this  l)i'i<j;lit,  crisp  I)e('(nnl)or 
morning  through  ii  vilhigt;  street  in  .lapiin  —  such  a  viUago 
street  as  Iluive  seen  a  liuiuli'ed  times  (hu'ing  my  brief  stay 
in  that  fair  land.     The  viUage  hoasts  no  buildings  of  archi- 


IN   WINTKlt    I'OSTt'Mi;. 


tectural  ])retenti()ns,  unk'ss,  ]HM'h;ii)s,  it  contains  an  old 
])alace  of  ])ainiio  times.  Even  if  it  does,  th(>  palace  is 
prohabl}'^  deserted  and  falling  into  I'uin,  though  its  nuissivo 
■walls,  wide  water-lilled  moats,  and  pagoda-liUe  stori(>s  still 
tell  of  its  former  magnillcence  in  feudal  times. 


212 


HOUSEKEEPING  MADE  EASY. 


As  for  the  rest  of  the  village,  the  houses  generall}'  are 
very  humble  and  unpretentious,  usually  one-story  high,  with 
a  heavy  thatched  or  tiled  roof,  and  defended'  from  the 
weather  by  thin  paper  screens.  A  modern  writer  has  said 
that  "  Japanese  houses  have  no  walls,  no  windows,  and  no 
chimneys.'"  Take  away  these  essentials,  and  one  may  well 
ask  what  Avould  be  left  but  a  huge  dry-goods  box.  This, 
however,  is  somewhat  of  an  exaggeration,  for  the  moval)le 
rice  paper  screens  answer  very  Avell  for  partition  walls,  and 
the  rice  paper  screens  themselves,  though  opaque,  answer  for 
Avindows,  through  which  a  "  dim  religious  light "  manages 
to  find  its  way.  As  for  the  chimneys,  what  need  is  there 
of  them  when  the  stoves  contain  no  blaze  and  no  smoke,  but 
simply  a  little  handful  of  coals  in  the  middle  of  a  bed  of 
sand  i  If  we  get  a  glimpse  into  one  of  the  Japanese  houses 
Ave  are  passing,  Ave  shall  see  very  little  furniture ;  tAvo  or 
three  warm  quilts  for  each  person,  a  small  flat  cushion  on 
which  he  may  sit,  two  or  three  "  hibachis  "  or  fire  boxes,  a 
few  little  tables  not  more  than  six  inches  high,  and  some 
lamps,  cups,  bonds,  tubs,  and  saucepans  complete  the  house- 
hold furniture.  One  will  see  no  chairs,  knives,  forks,  or 
s])oons,  no  carpets  nor  rugs,  no  ])icturos  on  the  Avails.  How- 
ever, there  are  some  verv  good  substitutes  for  all  these  neces- 
sary articles.  The  screens  are  often  beautifully  painted,  and 
scrolls  on  the  walls,  changed  often,  add  life  and  color  to  the 
room.  There  are  no  chairs,  to  l)e  sure,  but  what  does  one 
Avant  of  a  chair  Avhen  he  can  sit  on  the  soles  of  his  feet  i 
And  as  for  knives,  forks,  and  spoons,  chopsticks  are  quite  as 
handy  Avhen  one  knows  how  to  use  them,  and  far  less  trou- 
blesome. What  Avould  not  oui"  jVmerican  housewives,  who 
are  "  cumbered  with  much  serving,"  and  grow  ])rematurcly 
old  with  much  dish- washing,  give  for  these  neat  and  inex- 
pensive sid)stitutes  for  table  cutlevN'  I 


P-K 


OQ    =■     ^ 


c    ■     • 

^  —       ni 


. 


NO  CHARGE  FOR  SHOWING  GOODS. 


215 


We  may  not  linger  too  long  at  the  open  doorway  of  this 
Japanese  house  lest  we  be  deemed  impolite  even  by  these 
people,  Avho  themselves  have  more  than  their  fair  share  of 
"Yankee  curiosity,"  so  Ave  will  pass  on  to  have  a  look  at 
some  of  the  stores,  which  are  open  to  the  inspection  of  the 
passer-by.  There  are  no  sliow  windows,  for  the  whole  store 
is  one  show  window  with  all  its  goods  on  exhibition.  Here 
is  a  bakery,  for  instance,  with  many  kinds  of  thin,  tempting- 
looking  wafers,  and  nmch  gaudy  candy,  which  one  finds,  on 
investigation,  has  for  its  largest  component  rice  flour  with  a 
very  small  modicum  of  sugar.  There  are  bushel  baskets 
full  of  rolls  and  little  loaves  with  variegated  streaks  of  green 
and  red  running  through  them.  If  we  should  go  a  little 
ways  into  the  country  we  should  find  the  rice  flour  mill 
where  the  chief  ingredient  of  these  showy  little  cakes  was 
made.  Here,  under  the  same  projecting  roof,  one  coolie 
threshes  the  rice  straw  over  the  iron  teeth  of  a  primitive  flail, 
which  looks  like  a  carpenter's  Avooden  horse,  while  another 
winnows  the  grain  by  pouring  it  over  a  rude  sieve,  allowing 
the  wind  to  blow  away  the  chaff,  while  still  another  coolie 
grinds  the  rice  in  a  mill  laboriously  turned  by  hand.  IS^ext 
to  the  bakery  comes  a  fruit  store,  perhaps,  where  one  sees 
tempting  piles  of  "kid  glove"  oranges,  great,  luscious,  rosy 
persimmons,  yellow  loquots,  and  })iles  of  little  oranges  not 
bigger  than  the  end  of  one's  thumb. 

But  my  readers  will  pardon  a  digression  here,  for  Avhile 
looking  at  these  tempting  piles  of  Japanese  fruit,  I  Avill 
initiate  him  into  tlie  process  of  eating  a  Japanese  orange. 
Every  nation  has  its  ]>eculiar  method  of  extracting  the  juices 
of  this  tempting  fruit.  Perha])s  nations  might  be  classified 
according  to  their  ways  of  eating  oranges.  The  American, 
at  least  the  hotel-patronizing  American,  cuts  his  "Florida" 
in  two  in  the  middle,  scoo})s  out  the  rich  juice  with  his 


21G 


THE  POLITE  ART  OF  ORANGE  EATING. 


orange  spoon,  and  acconi])lishes  his  task  deftly  and  neatly. 
The  Australian  cuts  into  eight  sections  the  ])roduct  of  his 
semi-tropical  groves  and  is  thus  able  to  eat  his  breakfast 
fruit  with  great  ex])edition.  The  small  boy  of  all  nations 
bores  a  hole  in  the  end  of  his  orange  and  unceremoniously 
sucks  its  contents,  leaving  the  fair  looking  skin  dry  and 
juiceless.  The  Japanese  orange,  however,  may  be  eaten  like 
a  gra])e,  as  it  naturally  falls  a])ai't  into  a  dozen  different 


A   JAPANESE  FHUIT   STOKE. 


wedge-shaped  segments.  The  expert  grasps  the  thin  end  of 
the  wedge  lirmly  between  his  thumb  and  first  finger,  presses 
the  juicy  section,  held  perpendicularly  and  not  horizontally, 
between  his  teeth,  and  thus  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye 
extracts  all  the  sweetness  from  the  skin  of  one  section. 
Thus  he  treats  section  after  section  of  his  orange,  eating 
them  as  rapidly  as  so  many  Ilambui'g  grapes.  In  fact,  an 
expert  "orangeman"  will  make  nothing  of  getting  through 


i 


CLOGS   AND   STRAW   SANDALS. 


217 


six  specimens  of  this  luscious  Japanese  fruit  while  the  aver- 
age American  is  toilsoiiiely  digging  out  the  pulp  from  a 
single  native  of  the  orange  groves  of  Floritla  or  California. 
Just  beyond  the  fruit  store  is  a  barber  slK)p,  for  hair  cut- 
ting and  shaving  is  a  great  business  in  Jai)an.  As  in  the 
other  stores,  everything  is  open  to  the  daylight,  there  are  no 
screens,  no  windows,  no  partitions.  The  shop  is  simply  a 
recess  from  the  sidewalk  where  the  barber  and  his  customer 
are  sitting,  while  other  customei's  are  waiting  the  familiar 
"next." 


JAPANESE   UMUKELLA   MAKEIl. 


Then  comes  a  shoe  store,  perhaps,  but  we  see  no  "Oxford 
ties"  or  top  boots,  "Dongolas"  or  russet  tennis  shoes  dis- 
})layed;  but  instead  we  see  rows  upon  roAvs  of  heavy 
wooden  clogs,  mud  shoes  on  wooden  stilts  three  or  four 
inches  high,  and  long  festoons  of  straw  sandals  hanging 
fi'om  the  ceiling.  These  sandals  are  nothing  but  soles,  for 
tiiere  is  no  need  of  an  upper  to  protect  the  foot,  but  simply  a 
strap  passing  between  the  big  toe  and  its  next  neighbor,  by 


•218 


BY  MARKET   AND   WORKSHOP. 


which  the  sandul  is  dexterously  held  in  i)luee.  Perlia])s  the 
shoe  dealer  also  trades  in  stockings  and  we  iind  a  hu-fre 
assortment  of  curious  foot-wear  made  of  cloth  and  not  knit 
like  the  stockings  of  foreigners,  but  sewed  together  with 
a  compartment  especially  nuule  for  tiie  big  toe  by  itself  to 
fit  the  shoes  and  sandals  already  described.  Kext  to  the 
shoe  store  is  an  umbrella  factory,  and  near  by  is  a  vegetable 
market.  Here  Ave  find  a  very  good  sui)i)ly  of  the  vegetables 
of  the  season.  Sweet  ]wtatoes  are  common  aiul  cheap,  sold 
not  only  raw  but  also  at  almost  everv  street  corner,  smokino- 
hot  from  the  pot  or  nicely  browned  from  the  brazier.  Pars- 
nips and  cabbage,  onions  and  celery,  spinach  and  lettuce 
also  find  a  i)lace  in  these  stores. 

Everywhere  one  sees  piles  of  the   succulent  'Ulaihm''; 
along  the  railroad  stations,  in  the  fields,  borne  upon  the  stag- 
gering  shoulders  of  men  and  women,  loaded  upon  bullock 
carts,  strung  upon  great  ro])es  and  stretched  between  trees 
and  posts  to  dry,  cut  up  and  spread  upon  the  house  roofs  for 
desiccation,  until  one  is  tempted  after  all  these  sights  to  call 
Ja])an,  not  the  land  of  the  chrysanthemum,  but  the  country 
of  the  daikon.     Of  course,  the  green  grocer  whose  store  we 
are  inspecting  has  a  large  assortment  of  this  favorite  vegeta- 
ble on  hand.     The  daikon  is  a  sort  of  radish,  and  is  of  two 
varieties,  one  very  long,  sometimes  nearly  two  feet  in  length 
and  six  inches  through,  while  the  other  specimen  looks  like  a 
turnip  of  gigantic  proportions.     How  it  tastes  we  shall  iind 
out  when  we  come  to  eat  our  dinner  at  a  Japanese  hotel. 

As  we  pass  another  open  recess  in  the  street  we  see  a 
potter  at  work  with  his  wheel ;  still  another  alcove  shows 
an  umbrella-maker  ;  a  third  reveals  a  rake-maker  plying  his 
task  with  strips  of  stiff  bamboo  for  the  rakes'  teeth,  while  a 
fourth  is  busy  raaldng  the  lanterns  which  form  such  a  pictur- 
esque  and  striking  feature  of  night  life  in  Japan. 


THE  PARADISE  OF  LEAN  POCKETBOOKS. 


219 


Let  us  stop  and  make  a  few  ])in'cliase8  as  Ave  pass  some 
of  these  odd  and  temi)tin<^'  stoi'es.  Your  pockets  and  mine, 
my  reader,  are  not  very  large,  ])ei'lia])s,  but  .ra))an  is  tlie])ar- 
adise  of  lean  ])()cket books.  For  instance,  we  will  take  home 
to  show  our  fi'iends  the  f(jot  gear  of  this  interesting  people, 
one  pair  of  straw  sandals,  one  of  Avooden  shoes,  and  still 
another  of  high  clogs  for  muddy  weather,  and  three  pairs  of 
stockings  to  go  Avith  our  shoes.     Our  ])urchascs  make  quite 


IN    A   .JAPANESE    llAHUEK    SUOl*. 


a  formidable  looking  bundle,  and  we  fear  Ave  may  not  haA'^e 
change  enough  to  pay  for  our  curiosities.  But  Ave  are  quite 
relieved  to  find  that  all  our  goods  come  to  only  seventeen 
sen,  fiKQ  rin,  something  less  than  12i  cents. 

Everywhere  in  Japan,  except  on  the  foreign  concessions, 
these  cheap  prices  prevail.  For  instance,  at  the  railroad  sta- 
tion I  purchased  an  earthen  teapot,  holding  at  least  a  quart 
of  hot  tea  and  Avith  a  cup  thrown  in,  for  the  extravagant 
price  of  three  sen,  or  about  two  cents,  United  States  currency. 


220  A   DOZEN  ORANGES  FOR  ONE  SEN. 

Desiring  to  have  some  unneeessarv  liirsute  appendages 
removed,  I  was  told  that  the  price  of  liair  cutting  in  the 
Japanese  sakion  where  I  proposed  to  go  was  two  sen,  and  if 
I  wanted  to  be  shaved,  I  must  deplete  my  pocket  book  to 
the  extent  of  one  sen  more,  or  something  like  six  and  one- 
half  mills  for  a  clean  shave.  If,  however,  I  desired  the 
barber  to  come  to  my  house  to  perform  his  task,  I  would  be 
obliged  to  pay  him  the  enormous  sum  of  six  sen  (United 
States  money  about  four  cents)  for  his  extra  trouble. 

The  jinriksha  man  will  run  for  a  good  hour  toiling  up 
steep  hills  and  over  rough  roads,  and  at  the  end  of  the  live- 
mile  journey,  with  the  sweat  pouring  down  his  back,  will 
bow  his  most  gracious  thanks  if  presented  with  the  value  of 
a  ten-cent  })iece.  One  feels  that  he  is  taking  advantage  of  an 
innocent  and  unsuspecting  youth  when  lie  first  pays  such  a 
trifling  sum  for  such  a  large  service,  but  these  jinriksha  men, 
like  their  brethren  of  the  horsey  fraternity  all  over  the 
world,  have  their  eye  teeth  cut,  and  it  is  more  likely  that  he 
hus  taken  you  in  to  the  extent  of  a  few  rin,  than  that  he  is 
in  any  way  underpaid. 

At  one  time  I  handed  a  railway  platform  peddler  a  cop- 
per sen  (less  than  one  cent),  and  with  various  motions  gave 
him  to  understand  I  desired  the  value  of  the  coin  in  the 
oranges  which  he  held  in  his  tray,  whereupon  he  passed  into 
the  car  window  orange  after  orange  until  a  round  tlozen  lay 
on  the  seat  beside  me.  Had  I  been  aware  that  I  Avas 
making  so  large  a  purchase  I  would  have  invested  but  half 
the  sum  at  one  time.  It  must  be  confessed,  however,  that 
the  oranges  were  not  very  large,  and  a  hungry  little  boy  by 
my  side  soon  disposed  of  the  whole  purchase. 

Now,  if  we  have  sufficiently  explored  our  village  street^ 
let  us  go  into  a  Japanese  hotel  and  have  dinner,  for  sight- 
seeing is  hungry  work.     We  will  leave  our  shoes  at  the  door, 


DINNER  AT  A   TOY   HOTEL. 


991 


i 


for  it  would  bo  almost  profanity  to  bring  our  muddy  foot- 
wear into  this  immaculate  little  toy  hotel. 

The  floor  is  covered  with  soft,  heavy  matting,  as  spotless 
as  table  damask,  and  three  or  four  hihac/i'tH  are  set  around  in 
different  parts  of  the  room  to  take  the  chill  from  the  frosty 
atmosphere,  which  the  paper  screens  very  freely  admit. 
But  still  wo  are  cold,  in  spite  of  the  few  little  piles  of  glow- 
ing charcoal,  and  our  host  opens  another  screen  door,  show- 
ing his  h>t<ihu,  simply  a  s(iuare  hole  in  the  middle  of  the 
room,  filled  with  sand,  upon  which  is  a  little  larger  ])ile  of 
glowing  charcoal.  Over  this  hole  is  spread  a  large,  thick 
quilt  or  ^''futo/i,"^  and  under  this  futon  we  all  stick  our  feet, 
and  the  genial  Avarmth  from  the  kotatsu  being  all  econo- 
mized, our  lower  extremities  are  soon  quite  warm,  while  avo 
hold  our  'iands  over  the  hibachis,  and  so  are  soon  glowing 
Avith  Avarmth  at  both  extremities,  whatever  nuiy  be  true  of 
the  rest  of  our  bodies. 

While  Ave  have  been  getting  Avarm,  dinner  lias  been  cook- 
ing, and  noAV  a  Japanese  damsel  brings  it  in  on  red  lacquer 
trays.  This  solemn  proceeding  is  preceded  by  a  very  low 
boAv,  the  Avaitress  falling  on  her  knees  and  touching  the  mat- 
ting Avith  her  forehead  before  each  one  of  us.  Then  she 
presents  the  dinner  tray  as  though  making  an  offering  to  the 
gods. 

In  the  trav  is  a  bowl  of  steaming  rice  "  Avithout  an\' 
trimmings,''  as  one  of  our  party  remarked ;  no  sugar,  salt,  or 
condiments  of  any  kind  being  eaten  Avith  the  rice,  except 
such  as  Ave  find  in  the  boAvl  of  thin  soup  accompanying  it. 
In  this  soup  is  a  little  Avad  of  boiled  si)inacli,  several  largo 
mushrooms,  and  a  slice  of  an  indescribable  mixture  nuule  of 
fish  and  eggs,  Avhicli  is  not  altogether  unpalatable  if  one  has 
courage  to  investigate  it. 

Besides  the  soup  and  rice,  the  tray  contains  a  large  cup 

14 


222 


AN   EXECRABLE   PICKLE. 


of  lima  boans,  lianl  and  unsavory,  a  saucor  of  fish  Avith  a 
little  "soi"  by  its  side,  and  tlio  inovitablo  daikon.  Tiiis 
daikon  is  not  the  radisli  in  its  first  estate,  fresh  from  tlio 
dewy  fields,  but  a  most  execrable  kind  of  fermented  ])ickle. 
It  looks  white  and  fair  enough  to  tempt  the  most  delicate 
appetite,  but  its  taste  wofully  belies  its  toothsome  appear- 
ance. Some  one  has  described  it  as  a  cross  between  spoiled 
sauerkraut  and   decayed    Limburger  cheese,  and    perhaps 


THE   VILLAINOUS  DAIKON. 


there  is  no  better  description,  on  the  whole,  for  this  most 
villainous  of  vegetables. 

However,  when  the  gourmand  of  our  own  country  eats 
his  "high  game"  and  "woodcock  trail,"  and  rejoices  in 
his  sauerkraut  and  Limburger,  who  shall  say  the  Japa- 
nese partiality  for  pickled  daikon  is  more  absurd  than  the 
gastronomic  whims  of  the  American  or  European  epicure? 
However,  the  most  "diflHcult"  appetite  need  not  go  unsatis- 
fied even  in  a  Japanese  hotel,  for  the  oranges  are  delicious, 
and  the  tea  is  always  hot  and  good  even  if  minus  milk  and 
sugar. 


o 


o 


X: 
X! 


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INTKUESTINO   TO   Ol  TSIDKUS. 


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a^ 

"Wliilo  \V(i  tii'o  oiitiji^-  our  (liuiict'  in  tins  toy  toa-houso 
a  gi-ouj)  of  iiKjuirin^-  urcliiiis  ^atlicrs  at  tlu^  window  outside. 
If  tlu'v  arci  intiM'cstcd  iu  us,  we  ai'(^  (juilc  as  much  intcivstod 
in  tluMii,  and  cxti'art.  i\o  less  fun  from  \\\{-  insjUH'tiou  tliaii 
thoy  do  tluMnsclvcs.  As  in  most  such  ci-owds  in  (>vcry  hind, 
th(5  "^iinall  hoy"  predominates.  \'ery  often  he  has  a, 
smaHcj'  boy  upon  his  hack,  foi'  cliihlren  ai-e  put  to  work 
early  in  tliis  hincL  Th(^  litthi  f«»Uow  on  his  brother's  back, 
thou<^h  but  a  few  months  ohl,  is  (piite  crontcmt  with  his 
elevated  })osition,  aiul  evidently  has  a,  mild  curiosity  in  re- 
gard to  the  foi'eignei's  who  are  makin<^' such  awkward  work 
with  their  chop-sticks. 

Sometimes  the  baby  has  anotluM'  doll  baby  on  his  back, 
and  I  liavo  actually  schmi  a  small  doll  on  the  l)i^-  doll's  back, 
the  big  doll  on  the  small  boy's  back,  and  thi^  snudl  boy  on 
his  l)ig  brother's  back;  four  generations,  as  it  were,  to- 
gether. 

Hut  curiosity  is  not  confined  to  the  small  fry  altogether. 
Their  fathers  and  mothers  look  in  u|)on  us  with  wondei'ing 
eyes;  the  street  peddler  draws  n(»ar  and  forgets  to  ha,wk  his 
wares  for  a  few  moments;  the  swoi'd  juggl(»r  who  ])er- 
and)ulates  the  street  with  loud  cries  and  extravagant  antics 
for  the  sake  of  drawing  a  (irowd  to  his  entei'tainnuMit,  seems 
more  interested  in  thes(i  strange  people  who  have  descended 
upon  his  native  village  than  in  his  own  jxM'formance. 

By  stop[)ing  to  gaze  upon  us  one  curiosity  mongei'  at- 
tracts another  until  the  wholes  dooi'way  is  filled,  and  wo 
begin  to  feel  ourselves  the  observed  of  all  observei's.  How- 
ever, it  is  a  very  good-natured  inspection,  and  as  I  have  said, 
wo  repay  it  with  intm-est.  For  (>very  dirty-faced  little  street 
ganun,  and  every  scald-headed  baby  (for  many  of  them,  I 
am  sorry  to  say,  lusve  some  soi't  of  scalp  disease),  (»very  bare- 
headed, open-eyed    bumpkin,   evc;y   black-toot  1m'<1    nuirriod 


32G 


BEGGARS   AND   MOTOR-MEN. 


woman,  and  every  sweet-faced  ''musmee"  (for  there  are 
many  pretty  f^irls  among  them)  is  an  especial  study. 

In  this  throng  at  the  liotel  doorway  (if  it  is  proper  to 
•^eak  of  a  doorway  when  the  whole  side  of  the  house  is  one 
great  doorway)  we  are  likely  to  get  a  glimpse  of  a  Buddhist 

priest  with  his  queer  head- 
gear and  closely  shaven  head. 
Very  likely  he  is  a  beggar 
priest  with  a  little  gong 
which  he  continually  beats, 
and  a  big  receptacle  for  the 
offerings  of  the  faithful. 
Other  beggars  wear  a  pecu- 
liar kind  of  hat  like  an  in- 
verted bushel  basket,  which 
comes  down  over  the  head 
almost  to  the  shoulders. 

"We  also  have  among  our 
auditors  several  bare-leggod 
jinrikisha  men,  with  their  red 
blankets  wrapped  around 
their  shoulders,  giving  a 
touch  of  color  to  the  scene, 
and  leading  one  to  diink  for  an  instant,  as  he  glances  out  upon 
the  crowd,  that  he  is  on  an  Indian  reservation  in  the  far 
West.  These  jinrikisha  men  deserve  a  whole  chapter  to 
themselves,  for  they  form  a  very  large  section  of  the  popu- 
lation, besides  furnishing  a  very  important  convenience  to 
the  traveling  public.  They  are  the  hack  men  and  motor- 
men,  the  horse-car  drivers,  and  liorses  and  electric  motors 
combined,  of  the  far  East.  The  jinrikislia  was  invented 
twenty-five  years  ago,  by  a  Baptist  missionary,  tiiough  the 
date  and  title  to  the  invention  is  disputed  by  some. 


.,\\-1''Hli 


A  JAPANESE  PEASANT. 


AN  EXAGGERATED   BABY  CARRIAGE. 


227 


It  seems  strange  that  this  inventive  and  progi-essive 
people  did  not  find  such  an  important  and  convenient  means 
of  conveyance  long  before,  for  horses  are  almost  unknown  in 
Japan,  except  in  the  army,  mules  are  entirely  a  minus  quan- 
tity, and  cows  do  not  afford  a  very  swift  or  delightful 
means  of  travel.  The  roads,  moreover,  are  excellent 
throughout  the  emi)ire,  and  are  just  fitted  for  these  light 
and  tiny  one-man  vehicles.  AVithin  a  twelve-month  after  its 
introduction  the  jinrikisha  had  become  common  in  the  large 
cities  of  Japan,  and  within  two  years  its  use  became  uni- 
versal. After  getting  along  for  five  thousand  years  under  a 
single  dynasty  without  any  such  convenient  mode  of  loco- 
motion, the  nation  was  evidently  ripe  for  the  introduction 
of  this  exaggerated  baby  carriage.  As  mushrooms  spring 
up  in  a  night  Avhere  the  evening  before  there  Avas  no  sign  of 
a  growing  fungus,  so  the  jinrikisha  has  suddenly  appeared  in 
all  parts  of  Japan,  and  with  it  came  the  jinrikisha-man,  who 
is  now  an  institution  that  could  not  possibly  be  dispensed 
with. 

Just  as  there  are  cabs  and  cabs,  elegant  landaus,  and  rus- 
tic herdics,  brightly-polished  hansoms  and  disreputable  four 
wheelers,  so  there  are  jinrikishas  and  jinrikishas.  Get  into 
one  of  the  better  class,  with  a  strong  man  to  pull  it  and  a 
good  road  to  travel  over,  and  one  is  as  comfortable  as  in  an 
easy  chair  wheeled  over  a  parlor  carpet.  ]?ut  get  a  rattlety- 
bang  affair  such  as  one  sometimes  finds,  Avith  a  low  back 
that  cuts  the  spine  in  two,  rattling  Avheels  and  a  semi-defunct 
man  to  pull  it,  and  the  sensation  of  jinrikisha  riding  is  any- 
thing but  agreeable.  However,  most  of  these  men  are 
strong,  quick,  and  polite.  They  will  tuck  you  into  their 
little  vehicle  with  the  red  blanket  around  j'our  feet,  and 
start  off  as  merrily  as  if  going  to  their  own  wedding.  Espe- 
ciallv  when  several  are  hired  at  the  same  time  for  the  same 


228 


HILAUIOUS   JINKIKISIIA    MEN. 


journey,  they  seem  to  take  genuine  (Iclight  in  tlieir  work.  I 
have  seen  ten  of  these  men,  two  in  a  jini'lkisha,  liired  by  a 
party  of  live,  wlien  roads  Avere  rough  and  time  limited, 
scam])er  along  the  road  Avith  the  utmost  glee,  as  hoys  just 
lot  out  of  school  go  home  for  a  long  holiday.  They  would 
crack  jokes  one  to  another,  laugh  uproariously,  and  then 
subside  into  a  steady  jog  trot  and  monotonous  low  chant, 
which,  beginning  with  the  head  man,  would  be  })assed  back 


A    JINIUKIHUA. 


to  the  next,  by  him  to  the  next,  and  so  on  until  the  last  man 
in  the  ])r()C(;ssion  took  u})  the  strain  and  ])assed  it  forward 
along  the  line. 

Their  endurance  is  ])erfectly  wonderful.  Many  a  time 
hav(5  I  seen  th(!m  trot  off,  a  good  hour  at  a  time,  uj)  hill  and 
down  <lale,  j)ulliiig  their  heavy  loads  witiiout  a  single  breath- 
ing s|)(;li,  while  at  the  end  of  the  journey  I  do  not  remember 
to  have  seen  one  exhausted  or  "  wiiuled."  IIow  would  it  do 
for  our  college  athletes  to  take  lessons  in  training  from 
these  .Japanese  jini'ikisha  men  'i     A  missionary  friend  of  mine 


A   (X)NVENIENT   I'OHITION   FOR  THE  WAITRESS. 


229 


» 


tolls  me  that  on  one  occasion,  when  jn'cssed  i'or  time,  his  jin- 
likisha-man  made  seventy-live  miles  in  one  day  over  a  road 
far  from  the  best,  and  Avas  by  no  means  utterly  exhausted  at 
the  end  of  the  day.  On  the  foUowing  day  ho  was  quite 
fresh  and  ready  for  anotlicr  long  })ull.  This  journey,  thou«^h 
of  course  oxcoj)tional,  is  by  no  means  unexampled,  while 
forty  or  fifty  miles  is  not  an  unusual  day's  woi'k,  and  may 
be  kept  up  nuiny  days  in  succession  by  those  hardy  little 
runners. 

]iut  our  jinrikisha  men  have  (piite  run  away  with  us  from 
that  dinner  we  were  describing.  \iy  this  time  we  must  be 
considered  to  have  linished  our  Japanese  meal,  drained  the 
last  cu})  of  weak  tea,  and  ready  to  leave  mine  liost.  While 
wo  have  boon  eating,  our  Japanese  waitress,  in  lier  sj)otles8 
white  stockings,  has  been  sitting  in  the  very  middle  of  the 
tiibk^,  or  rather,  of  the  dining-room  floor,  which  serves  as 
our  table,  so  that  she  nuiy  conveniently  luind  us  any  edibles 
that  may  bo  out  of  our  reach.  The  vision  suggested  to  my 
roatlers  by  this  description  of  a  groat,  straj)ping,  awkward 
Irish  Bidd}'^  planting  herself  in  the  middle  of  the  dining 
tabUi,  and  })assing  the  viands  to  the  dilforont  guests,  is  su- 
premely ludicrous ;  but  not  in  the  least  incongruous  is  the 
j)icture  of  this  delicate  and  deft  Ja])anose  jnaiden  squatting 
on  her  wiiito  soles  within  the  inmost  circle  of  guests,  that  she 
might  hand  the  desired  dishes  to  any  one  in  need. 

Now  we  will  j)ay  our  snudl  rotikoning,  put  on  (jur  shoes 
again,  makci  a,  low  salaam  to  the  honorable  tavern  keeper 
and  his  wife  and  all  his  servants  and  waitresses,  and  lind  our 
way  through  the  dense  crowd  of  curiosity-seekers  to  the  roil- 
way  station. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

OUR  EXPERIENCE  AT  A  CEREMONIAL  TEA  — THE  THIRTY- 
THIRD  DEGREE  OF  EXQUISITE  POLITENESS  — JAPANESE 
SOCIAL  LIFE  — IN   THE  EMPERORS   PALACE. 

A  Ceremonial  Tea — "Past  Masters  "  of  Politeness  —  The  Enijieror's  De- 
viee  —  A  Dignified  Function  —  A  Contest  in  Politeness — ^Vhite  antl 
Black  Charcoal  —  \\'ith  Measured  Stei)s  and  Rhvtlunie  Motion  —  Build- 
ing the  Fire  —  The  !Most  Solemn  Moment  —  Our  Part  in  the  Ceremony 

—  No  Laughing  Matter  —  Smacking  Our  Lips  —  From  Tokio  to  Kioto 

—  The  Garden  of  the  "World  —  Industrious  and  Careful  Farmers  — 
Woman's  Rights  in  Japan  —  One  of  Japan's  Honored  Names  —  Mis- 
sionar}'  Life  in  the  East  —  Flippant  "Globe-trotters" — Cheating  the 
Gods  —  Stone  Children  with  Red  Bilis — Confucius's  Chilly  Cult  —  The 
Temple  of  the  Three  Thousand  Gods  —  Big  Gods  and  Little  Gods  — 
Rope  Made  of  Human  Hair  —  How  Heavy  Timbers  were  Lifted  into 
Place  —  Curious  Sacritice  of  Religious  Devotees  —  In  the  E/nperor's 
Palace  —  0.saka,  its  Mint,  its  Castle,  and  its  Fish-Market. 


EFOEE  we  leave  the  fascinating 
enn)ire  of  the  Mikado  "\ve  must 
all  attend  '"a  Ceremonial  Tea." 
It  is  not  the  good  fortune  of  every 
traveler  in  Japan  to  become  ac- 
quainted with  this  unique  national 
custom,  but  it  is  well  worth  the 
time  it  takes  to  see  the  acme  of 
etiquette,  the  thirty-third  degree 
of  exquisite  politeness,  formality, 
and  ceremony,  in  whicli  the  Jap- 
anese are  "  Past  Masters."  Pro- 
fessors of  the  art  of  ffivino:  ceremonial  teas  still  exist  in 
Japan,  though  I  understand  the  ])rofessors  and  the  teas 
themselves  are  not  sucli  everv-dav  matters  as  they  used  to 

be,  for  most  Japanese  in  these  stirring  days  have  not  time 

(230) 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  CEREMONIAL  TEA. 


231 


to  devote  the  hours  and  hours  necessary  to  imbibing  a  cup 
of  tea  in  the  most  approved  and  correct  manner. 

This  custom  is  said  to  have  been  introduced  bv  Ilidevoshi, 
the  great  concjueror  of  Corea,  who,  after  liis  armies  had  re- 
turned triuniphant,  felt  obliged  to  provide  some  occupation 
for  his  sokliers  which  shouhl  take  their  time  and  remove 
their  thouglits  from  Avarlike  scenes.  So,  shrewd  man  that 
he  was,  he  centered  their  minds  upon  pouring  and  imbib- 
ing the  "  cup  that  cheers,"  feehng  sure  that  any  one  Avhose 


DIGNIFIED   DAMSKLS   AT   TKA. 


attention  was  taken  up  for  five  hours  at  a  stretch  by  the 
delicate  and  intricate  ceremonies  centering  around  a  tea- 
pot would  have  no  room  for  bloodthirsty  thoughts  or  over- 
leaping ambitions. 

For  three  hundred  years  the  Ceremonial  Tea  has  been  an 
institution  of  Japanese  life,  and  ceremonial  tea-making  is 
taught  in  the  modern  schools  of  the  government,  as  it  is 
thought  to  give  dignity  and  grace  and  a  kind  of  solemn  les- 
son in  etiquette  to  all  who  study  its  intricacies.  When  we 
asked  the  aged  professor  who  had  been  a  teacher  of  the  art 
all  her  life,  and  who  poured  for  us  the  ceremonial  cup,  how 


232 


PRELIMINARY  COURTESIES. 


long  it  took  to  become  ])erfect  in  her  profession,  she  told  us 
that  a  bright  scholar  studying  one  hour  a  day  for  three 
years  continuously  might  become  fairly  proficient ;  but  she 
emphasized  the  word  "fairly"  to  show  that  only  a  very  com- 
])arative  degree  of  proficiency  was  attainable  by  any  such 
short  apprenticeship. 

But  now  for  the  tea.     There  were  five  of  us  favored  with 
the  ceremony  in  the  old  Daimio  city  of  Okyama.     After 
carefully  removing  our  shoes,  we  stepped  reverently  upon 
the  straw  matting  of  the  professor's  little  toy  house,  which, 
by  the  way,  was  a  perfect  specimen  of  the  average  Japanese 
abode.     I  said  stepped,  but  it  would  be  more  proper  to  say 
kneeled,  for  we  were  told  that  it  would  be  almost  profane 
to  come  into  the  room  in  our  usual  upright  position.     So  we 
left  our  shoes  on  the  ground  below  and  kneeled  up  into  the 
first  floor  sitting-room  of  our  hostess'  apartments.    Here  we 
saw  a  gray-haired  old  lady  awaiting  us  with  sweet  serenity 
and  great  dignity  of  mien.     She  also  was  upon  her  hands 
and  knees,  and  she  bowed  very  low  before  us,  while  her 
pathetic  gray  hairs  swept  the  matting  at  our  feet.    We  were 
not  to  be  outdone  in  politeness,  however,  so  putting  our 
hands  before  us  on  the  matting,  we  bowed  low  until  the  very 
crowns  of  our  heads  rested  on  the  soft  matting  of  the  floor. 
After  remaining  in  that  position  as   long  as  we  thought 
strict  etiquette  required,  Ave  rose  to  our  feet,  and  followed 
our  hostess  up  the  steep  and  narrow  stairs  to  the  room  above, 
the  room  sacred  to  the  ceremonial  tea. 

In  this  room  a  fire  w^as  glowing  in  the  Tcotatsu,  and  the 
steaming  earthen  jar  of  hot  water  looked  altogether  cheer- 
ful and  home-like  as  it  bubbled  and  simmered  above  the  coals. 

This  pre-arrangeraent,  however,  was  only  a  concession  to 
our  AVestern  spirit  of  haste,  for  our  ceremonial  professor 
had  been  tpld  we  had  but  one  hour  at  our  disposal,  and  the 


I 


STATELY  AND  DIGNIFIED  CEREMONIES.  233 

tea  must  be  made  and  served  in  that  short  siuice  of  time,  or 
not  at  all.  Otherwise,  she  would  have  kindled  the  tire 
before  us,  and  have  placed  every  drop  of  water  in  the  honor- 
able pot,  which  is  the  true  and  ancient  way  to  prepare  for  a 
ceremonial  tea. 

Motioning  us  to  take  our  seats  upon  the  mats  provided, 
she  set  about  her  task  in  the  most  serenely  grave  and  digni- 
fied fashion.  First  she  entered  the  screen  door  with  a  little 
bronze  dish  filled  with  charcoal,  some  sticks  being  painted 
white,  while  other?  v.'crc  ]*^ft  the  natural  color  of  the  coal. 
When  she  reached  the  door  she  turned  around  and  very 
gravely  pulled  the  door  parti}'  to  with  one  band,  transferred 
the  charcoal  dish  to  the  other  hand  and  pulled  the  door  a 
little  farther  with  the  hand  thus  left  free,  then  changed 
hands  once  more,  and  finally  shut  the  door  with  the  hand 
first  in  use.  Then,  with  six  short  and  measured  steps,  only 
six  and  no  more,  she  made  her  way  to  the  fire-hole  in  the 
floor.  Then  turning  around,  with  solemn  precision,  she 
dropped  upon  her  white  stocking  soles,  and  with  the  utmost 
reverence  and  care  deposited  the  charcoal  in  front  of  her. 
Taking  from  a  large  basket  by  her  side  a  pair  of  curious 
black  tongs,  slowly  and  with  the  gravest  dignity  she  placed 
two  black  and  two  white  pieces  of  charcoal  on  the  glowing 
coals.  Then,  though  there  was  not  a  particle  of  dust  to  be 
seen,  she  took  two  turkey  feathers  and  slowly  and  with 
rhythmic  motions  brushed  the  black  polished  edge  of  the 
kotatsu.  With  a  specially  dedicated  spoon  she  then  took  the 
saucer  of  damp  ashes  and  sprinkled  them  all  about  the  glow- 
ing coals,  that  the  fire  might  not  spread.  As  I  write  this 
description  the  words  naturally  used  seem  to  imply  some- 
thing of  hurry  and  undignified  haste.  The  very  word 
"  sprinkle  "  from  its  sound  seems  to  imply  a  hasty  and  flip- 
pant action,  but  I  beg  my  readers  to  understand  it  was  any- 


23i 


A  SOLEMN   MOMENT. 


tiling  but  this.  Slow  and  moderate,  dignified  and  rhythmic, 
was  every  motion  of  her  hand  and  spoon  and  tongs,  and  as 
the  damp  ashes  di'()p])ed  upon  the  hot  sand  they  seemed  to 
partake  of  the  spirit  of  the  occasion,  and  to  fall  in  a  very 
dignified  and  methodical  manner.  Then,  with  the  same  slow 
and  solenm  movement  she  rose  to  her  feet,  and  grasi)ing  the 
chosen  vessel  with  the  utmost  tenderness,  taking  six  meas- 
ured steps  to  the  door,  no  more  and  no  less,  she  set  down  the 
bronze  dish  and  opening  the  door,  first  Avith  one  hand  and 
then  with  the  other,  and  then  with  the  first  again,  and  bow- 
ing her  gray  hairs  to  the  floor,  she  glided  out  into  the  next 
room. 

In  rising  from  the  floor  she  must  get  upon  her  left  foot 
first,  and  it  would  be  an  unpardonable  breach  of  etiquette  to 
put  her  right  foot  forward  before  the  left  had  preceded  it. 

In  the  same  "way,  with  slow  and  measured  half-'lozen 
steps,  she  brought  in  two  cups,  and  then  a  slop-bowl,  and 
then  a  little  bamboo  dipper  with  which  to  fill  her  hot  water 
pot,  and  last  of  all  the  sacred  lacquer  box  containing  the 
powdered  flowers  of  the  tea  plant.  This  was,  possibly,  the 
most  solemn  moment  of  the  whole  ceremony.  Even  Avith 
fifty  years'  ex])orience  our  hostess  evidently  found  it  difficult 
to  live  up  to  her  lac(iuer  tea  box.  Taking  from  her  girdle  a 
red  silk  najjkin,  she  smoothed  and  folded  it  with  extremest 
care,  tenderly  and  seriously,  and  then  dusted  the  top  of  the 
tea  box,  on  which  there  had  been  before  not  the  slightest 
suspicion  of  dust ;  then  unfolding  it  again  in  another  peculiar 
manner,  which  took  months  of  constant  practice  to  learn  to 
perfection,  she  laid  the  cloth  aside. 

Following  this  came  another  serious  ceremony.  Taking 
a  bamboo  dipper  carefully  in  both  hands,  she  placed  it  in 
just  the  right  position  on  the  teacup,  the  handle  resting  on 
the  floor.     Then,  with  her  other  hand  again  grasping  the 


NO  CAUSE  FOR  LEVITY. 


235 


handle  of  the  dipper,  with  dignified  reverence  she  poured 
a  small  amount  of  water  into  the  teacup.  Into  this  half 
a  teaspoonful  of  the  powdered  tea  flower  was  put,  and 
stirred  in  with  a  long  bamboo  wliisk  which  looked  not  unlike 
an  egg-beater. 

Then  with  slow  and  measured  tread  she  approached  the 
first  guest  in  the  row,  and,  sweeping  the  soft  matting  Avith 
her  white  hair,  she  placed  the  cup  before  the  honored  guest. 
Do  not  suppose  that  anything  was  done  except  with  the  ut- 
most precision  and  care.  It  is  impossible,  since  life  is  short, 
to  describe  the  preciseness,  suavity,  and  dignified  solemnity 
with  which  every  movement  w^as  performed.  Not  a  smile 
passed  over  her  weather-beaten  features.  Every  act  was  no 
less  serious  than  a  religious  rite  to  her. 

However  much  cause  for  levity  her  guests  may  have 
found,  our  hostess  herself  was  evidently  performing  a  duty 
which  admitted  of  no  frivolity.  Worldly  chatter  seemed 
out  of  place.  Laughter  which  came  into  our  hearts  died 
away  before  it  rose  to  the  lips;  and  every  smile  was 
smoothed  out  before  the  dignified  procedure  of  our  cere- 
monious host. 

Then  came  our  part,  which  was,  alas !  performed  so  much 
more  awkwardly  than  hers.  A  native  Japanese  lady,  how- 
ever, was  present  to  coach  us,  and  under  her  direction  Ave 
first  touched  the  matting  with  our  foreheads ;  then  solemnly 
raising  the  cup,  touched  it  to  our  brows  first  and  next  to  our 
lips.  We  were  told  it  was  good  form  to  drain  the  cu])  in 
three  swallows,  drawing  in  the  breath  after  each  swallow 
and  smacking  the  lips  loudly  to  show  our  appreciation  of  the 
delicious  nectar.  After  the  last  swallow  a  peculiar  noise 
must  be  made  by  drawing  in  the  breath  with  the  pursed  up 
lips;  a  noise  for  which  I  have  often  heard  children  reproved 
by  their  elders  when  discovered  making  it  at  the  dinner 


236 


THE  ORDEAL  OVER. 


table.  I  have  forgotten  to  say,  however,  that  before  raising 
the  cup  to  our  lips  it  was  necessary  to  put  it  in  the  ])alni  of 
the  left  hand,  while  the  right  lovingly  chis])e(l  the  cu)),  then 
it  must  bo  tui'ned  half  wav  around,  after  which  it  niiyflit  be 
slowly  raised  to  the  lips. 

After  drinking,  the  outside  of  the  cup  must  be  wiped 
with  the  thumb,  while  the  inside  of  the  cup  must  be  simi- 
larly wiped  with  the  forefinger.  Then  it  must  be  turned 
half  way  round  on  the  palm  once  more,  and  reverently  set 
down  on  the  matting. 

In  the  same  way  tea  was  prepared  for  each  one  of  the 
five  guests,  every  one  of  whom  must  go  through  exactly  the 
same  motions,  or  be  forever  disgraced  in  the  eyes  of  our 
hostess. 

Then  taking  u-p  the  dipper  and  ladle,  tea  caddy,  slop 
bowl  and  cups,  fire  tongs  and  bronze  charcoal  basket,  one  by 
one,  she  carried  them  into  the  next  room,  pacing  most  sol- 
emnly each  time  over  the  six  steps  between  the  fire  hole  and 
the  door;  opening  the  door  in  the  same  way  with  both 
hands,  and  then  coming  back  to  say  "Adieu"  to  her  guests. 

By  this  time  our  hostess  had  relaxed  a  little ;  a  weight 
was  evidently  off  her  mind ;  she  had  gone  through  a  severe 
ordeal  once  more  and  had  acquitted  herself  most  creditably. 
Her  teacups  had  no  reason  to  be  ashamed  of  her,  and  she 
even  smiled  a  dignified  smile,  and  condescended  to  chat 
most  graciously.  We  could  not,  however,  remain  for  any 
gossip,  but  pressing  our  crowns  to  the  matting  once  more, 
with  many  a  bow  and  genuflection,  we  backed  out  of  the 
presence  of  etiquette  personified,  put  on  our  shoes,  bobbed 
through  the  low  Japanese  door,  and  were  able  to  stand  erect 
and  take  a  good  infornuil  breath  of  fresh  air,  thanking  God 
that  no  such  thing  as  ceremonial  tea  existed  in  the  world 
of  nature  into  which  we  had  emerged. 


*   '-  — 


•fir   i:  M^^^''^'^'!^ 


INDUSTRIOUS   AND   HAPPY   FARMERS. 


839 


Tlic  journey  from  Tokio  to  Kioto,  from  the  modern 
secular  capital  to  the  ancient  sacred  capital  of  Japan,  was  a 
most  delightful  one.  Such  a  panorama  of  mountain  and 
valley,  seashore  and  bluff,  beautifully  cultivated  rice  fields 
and  garden  spots,  forests  of  bamboo,  orange  groves,  and  tea 
plantations,  nuilberry  bushes  and  persimmon  orchards,  rice 
fields  and  vegetable  gardens,  would  be  hard  to  find  in  any 
other  section  of  the  globe.  England  and  France  with  their 
careful  culture  are  not  so  thoroughly  tilled  as  the  arable 


IN   A   BAMBOO   FOUE8T. 


portions  of  Japan,  and  even  little  Belgium,  with  its  teeming 
population,  does  not  seem  as  thoroughly  subdued  as  the  cul- 
tivated parts  of  the  Mikado's  empire.  On  these  little  islands, 
only  one-ninth  part  of  which  has  yet  been  brought  under 
cultivation,  very  much  of  whose  area  is  bare  rock  and  moun- 
tain crag  which  cau  never  be  tilled,  thirty-seven  millions  of 
people  find  room  for  existence.  AVhile  a  few  discontented 
peasants  in  Ireland  are  always  in  a  state  of  famine  and 
appealing  to  the  sympathy  of  the  civilized  world  with  their 
woes  and  lamentations,  ten  times  as  many  contented,  indus- 
trious, and  happy  farmers  and  trades-people  make  a  living  in 
Japan  and  never  send  to  America  doleful  tales  of  want  and 
woe. 


240 


JAPANESE   Vir.LA(;ES. 


]>y  a  very  careful  system  of  storage  of  water  and  irriga- 
tion most  of  the  cultivated  regions  of  Jajjan  are  beyond  tiie 
reach  of  drought,  and  whei'c  tiie  AnuM'ican  farmer  wouhl 
starve,  and  the  English  gi'umble,  and  the  Ii-ish  get  uj)  a  ri(jt, 
the  Japanese  fai'iner  will  live  in  conrfort  and  plenty.  To 
be  sure,  his  wants  an;  sim])le,  but  he  is  (piite  able  to 
Sl  pply  those  wants.  One  s(;es  few  gaunt,  hungry  beggars 
in  the  large  cities  of  Japan,  fewer  still  in  the  country  dis- 
tricts. ]>eggars  there  are,  to  be  sure,  but  most  of  them  are 
fat  and  rosy,  and  by  no  means  unhiq)py  hjoking  or  lone- 


GATHKUINO    Till'-   TKA    ('IU>1'. 


some,  for  usually  tliey  resemble  the  famous  family  of 
martyrs  in  having  nine  small  children  and  one  at  the  breast. 

As  one  rides  along  the  railway  betw(M'n  Tokio  and  Kioto 
ho  pass(>s  innumerable  small  villages,  all  built  on  the  same 
princij)le.  The  h()us(>s  with  thatched  or  tiled  roofs,  pictur- 
esquely turned  up  at  tli(;  end,  oft(>ntimes  a  large  Buddhist 
temple,  fnupiently  a  number  of  shrines,  and  a  street  of 
stores,  such  as  I  hav(!  desci-ib.-d  in  a,  ])r<!vious  chapter,  make 
up  tli(;  village. 

In  the  (iclds  we  se(!  women  woi'king  side  by  side  with 
the  men,  and  often  on  the  strecits  \\r  see  them  pulling  heavy 
loads  of  rice  or  vegetables.     I'ut  after  all  their  lot   is  no. 


GROVES   AND   GARDENS. 


241 


more  unonviiiblc!  tliiin  tliat  of  poiisant  women  on  the  con- 
tin(!nt  ol"  Europe,  and  I  am  told  that  these  field  women, 
though  they  work  hai'd  and  aj)j)arent]y  toil  from  morning 
til!  night,  hav(;  far  mor<;  freedom  and  inlluenee  in  their  own 
homes  than  the  women  of  the  i-icher  classes,  and  their  lot  is 
(]uit(!  as  easy  to  be  borne. 

TIk;  liehls  ai*e  small,  a!id  divided  frcjm  one  another  by 
low  eMd);inkments  with  nari'ow  ditches  between,  but  all 
under  \\\v.  most  ex(|uisit(!  culture,  with  furrows  sti'aigiit  and 
even,  and  no  inch  of  soil  wasted.  The  licjuid  manure  stored 
at  every  field's  corner  is  malod(jrous,  to  be  sure,  but  without 
it  the  Japanese;  fai'm(;rs  could  not  exist,  and  what  they  can 
endui'e  year  in  and  year  out,  sui"<'ly  the  passing  traveler  can 
whid'  withont  murmuring.  Under  almost  every  green  tree 
and  clum])  of  bushes  stands  ii  IJuddhist  shrine;,  while  the 
Inunboo  groves  with  their  sti'aight  and  slim  fish-pole-like 
stems  arul  feathei-y  t()|)S,  make  pleasant  and  [)ictures(|UO 
additions  to  the  landscape. 

Soon  after  leaving  Yokohama  by  rail,  beautiful  "Fuji" 
towers  into  vicnv,  (|uite  as  lovely  wlnm  viewed  from  the 
shore  as  from  tin;  sc^a.  Symmetrical  and  lordly  beyond  all 
description,  it  nuist  1x5  seen  t(j  be  appreciated.  Neither 
glowing  words,  nov  even  the  most  faithful  canvas  can  do 
justice  to  it.  For  many  miles  it  dominates  the  landscape, 
and  it  is  several  hours  after  it  first  comes  into  view  before 
we  get  the  last  giim))se  of  this  glorious  mountain. 

As  we  a])proached  Kioto  the  beautiful  gardens  of  a/alias, 
japonicas,  and  chrysanthenmms  for  which  it  is  JU)ted,  be- 
came numerous,  and  though  at  the  time  of  our  visit  they 
were  not  in  their  glory,  we  could  get  some  concej)tion  of 
what  they  must  be  when  every  spray  is  a  nodding  ])lume  of 
flowers. 

Kioto  is  noted  for  its  temples,  its  ancient  ])alace,  and  to 
15 


242 


KIOTO  S   MAGNIFICENT   UNIVERSITY 


all  Christian  hearts,  for  its  splendid  Christian  university,  the 
Doshisha.  If  this  were  the  only  monument  of  Christian 
missions  in  all  the  world,  it  Avould  he  a  satisfactory  proof 
that  they  are  not  a  failure.  Here  on  the  soil  of  Japan, 
reared  within  a  quarter  of  a  century,  we  find  a  university  of 
which  any  state  in  the  Union  mig-ht  be  justly  ])roud.  Here 
are  taught  not  only  the  classics  and  sciences,  but  philosophy 
of  the  most  pronounced  Christian  type,  theology,  and  medi- 
cine in  connection  with  a  splendidly  appointed  hospital. 


IN  THE   LAND  OF  THE  .lAPONICA. 

The  hundreds  of  young  men  who  assc^nble  at  morning 
prayers  would  do  credit  to  Dartmouth  or  Oborlin,  and  in  all 
respects  this  university  not  only  accom])lishes  the  prime 
ol)jeet  of  its  estabHshment,  the  fornuition  of  Christian  char- 
acter, but  is  fully  abreast  of  the  times,  and  is  second  in  ])opu- 
larity  and  influence  among  the  Japanese  themselves  only  to 
the  Imperial  University  of  Tokio  itself. 

The  founding  of  this  school  is  due  verv  larffolv  to  the 
talents  and  influence  of  Jose})h  Neesima,  whose  name  is  a 
household  word  among  Cliristian  ])e()ple  on  both  sides  of  the 
Pacific  ocean.     His  lamented   death   did   not   W(>ak(Mi   the 


THE   INFLUEN'CE   OF  THE   CHRISTIAN  MISSIONARY.      24;3 


prestige  or  power  of  the  university,  but  he  finds  a  Avorthy 
successor  in  President  Kozaki,  the  former  pastor  of  a  lead- 
ing Congregational  churcli  in  Tokio.  Most  of  the  professors 
in  tiie  univei'sity  are  Japanese,  tliough  eminent  scholars 
from  among  the  missionaries  have  from  the  first  given  to 
the  school  the  best  features  of  an  Occidental  University. 

Any  candid  and  intelligent  traveler,  Avhether  a  profess- 
edly religious  man  or  not,  can  but  note  and  give  due  credit 
to  the  mighty  power  Avhich  has  wrought  for  the  regenera- 
tion and  civilization  of  these  Eastern  nations.  To  hear  the 
flippant  commentaries  of  the  average  "  globe-trotter,"  as  I 
have  before  remarked,  often  makes  one's  blood  boil  with  in- 
dignation. A  man  who  goes  no  farther  than  Yokohama  or 
Kol)e,  who  sees  the  missionaries  living  in  good  houses,  and 
having  servants  to  wait  on  them,  immediately  writes  home 
to  the  papers  that  the  missionaries  are  living  in  luxury  and 
doing  no  good,  and  that  their  influence  is  not  appreciably 
felt  in  the  empire.  Such  a  man  is  no  more  a  fit  judge  of 
that  concerning  which  he  writes  so  fluently  than  the  keeper 
of  a  Chinese  josshouse  in  San  Francisco  is  fitted  to  write  of 
the  influence  of  the  Sundav-School  movement,  or  a  citizen  of 
the  South  Sea  islands  of  the  spread  of  temperance  sentiment 
in  Xew  England. 

More  than  all  other  influences  together  has  the  Christian 
missionar}'  moulded  and  directed  the  new  civilization  of 
Japan.  Commercial  treaties  could  never  have  wrought  the 
change.  Open  ports  for  trade  in  rice,  tea,  and  lacquer  ware 
could  never  have  sent  the  new  blood  of  AVestern  civilization 
bounding  through  the  veins  of  old  Japan.  But  the  mission- 
ary and  the  Bible,  and  everything  for  which  the  missionary 
and  tlie  Bible  stand,  have  in  less  than  a  generation  accom- 
plished what  centuries  of  mere  commercial  intercourse  Avith 
other  nations  couhl  ncA'er  lun^e  brouiiht  about. 


I 


244 


NOT   TRUTH,    BUT   SENSATIONALISM. 


I  have  met  missionaries  of  almost  every  denominational 
board  in  Japan,  and  in  not  a  single  instance  have  I  fonnd 
them  other  than  devoted,  consecrated  men  and  women,  who 
have  dedicated  their  lives  completely  and  forever  to  the  lift- 
ing np  of  this  people  and  the  glory  of  God.  I  have  seen  in 
our  daily  papers  strictures  and  criticisms  upon  the  inission- 
aries  which  a  single  half  day's  investigation  would  ])rove 
false.  But  these  flippant  penny-a-liners,  who  Avritc  their 
first  impressions  for  the  daily  papers,  never  stop  to  investi- 
gate. The  truth  is  not  what  they  are  after,  but  a  sensation, 
and  my  readers  may  set  down  any  such  ill-natured  remarks 
Avhich  they  nuiy  read  in  the  future  about  missionaries  and 
their  work,  as  the  result  of  ignorance  and  maliciousness. 

The  temples  of  Kioto  are  very  numerous  and  exceedingly 
beautiful.  Of  these  perhaps  the  Kyonizu  Sanjusangendo 
and  Ilongwanji  temples  are  the  most  famous. 

The  Kyonizu  temple  is  built  on  enormous  piles,  and  on 
one  side  is  raised  scores  of  feet  from  the  ground.  It  is  ap- 
proached by  a  long  flight  of  stone  steps,  and  as  Ave  Avent  up 
the  steps  Ave  Avere  a})})roaclied,  not  only  by  numerous  beg- 
gars, but  also  by  many  money  changers,  Avho  offered  to 
change  our  sens  into  rins.  As  a  sen  is  Avorth  less  than  a 
cent  and  a  rin  less  than  a  mill,  it  is  evident  that  the  ostenta- 
tious Avorshiper  Avho  Avishes  to  make  his  charity  rattle  loudly 
in  the  temple  treasury,  can  get  a  great  deal  of  credit  for  lib- 
eral gift-giving  out  of  a  A'ery  few  pennies.  Tliere  are,  more- 
over, debased  iron  coins,  a  hundred  of  Avhich  equal  one  son, 
and  these  are  very  popular  at  the  entrance  of  some  temj)les. 
After  all,  this  is  the  same  principle  by  Avhich  light  Aveight 
and  punched  and  clipped  silver  coins  find  their  Avay  into  con- 
tribution boxes  at  home,  and  I  liaA'e  sometimes  heard  it 
rumored  that  buttons  in  America  answer  the  same  purpose 
as  iron  rins  in  Japan  ;  they  make  as  much  noise  as  gold. 


A   FAMOUS   TEMPLE. 


245 


As  wc  go  up  the  steps  of  the  Kyoni/Ai  temple,  we  see  at 
regukir  intervals  stone  lanterns,  into  which  candles  are 
thrust  to  light  the  pilgrim  on  his  toilsome  way,  and  every 
now  and  then  we  pass  a  medicine  god  whose  features  are 
worn  smooth  by  the  devout  worslii]:)ers,  who  have  rubbed 
their  hands  over  the  i)arts  of  the  idol's  body  in  which  the 
diseases  of  their  afHicted  friends  were  located,  in  order  that 
they  might  carry  the  healing  touch  home  with  them. 

Eye  diseases  and  rheumatism  seem  to  be  the  prevailing 


ENTKANC'E  TO  NAGATA  TEMPM:,  KOBE. 


[t 


distempers  in  this  part  of  Japan,  for  the  eyes  of  some  of 
these  old  gods  are  completely  scratched  out,  and  their  knees 
and  thighs  worn  smooth  by  centuries  of  ceaseless  rubbing. 
Nothing  is  more  pathetic  among  all  the  superstitions  of 
heathendom  than  these  efforts  on  behalf  of  invalid  friends, 
so  impotent  and  yet  so  touching,  showing  that  whether  in 
Christian  light  or  heathen  darkness,  the  heart's  affection  is 
the  same  the  world  over. 

Another  most  pathetic  sight  in  the  Kyonizu  temple  is  the 
corner  devoted  to  imaffes  of  children.    Hundreds  and  hun- 


240 


SUPERSTITION   RATHER  THAN   DEVOTION. 


(Ireds  of  these  little  stone  images  are  ranged  in  rows,  witlj 
little  red  bibs  about  their  necks,  votive  olFerings,  we  are  told, 
to  tiie  god  ol'  the  temple,  in  behalf  of  children  sick  at  home. 
The  red  bibs  indicate,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  that  the  children 
recovered,  and  are  put  on  as  tiiank  offerings  over  the  little 
stone  imago  Avhen  the  child  gets  well. 

These  temples  and  tliis  idol  worship,  however  interesting 
to  the  casual  observer,  seefn  to  take  very  little  hold  of  the 
national  life.    Little  true  devotion  is  ap[)arent  in  China  or 


A   .lAPANKHK    IDOL    AND   TK.MI'M;. 

Japan,  the  prevalent  ske])ticism  liaving  in  many  places  taken 
the  place  of  the  old-time  reverence  for  Buddha  and  the  lesser 
duties. 

Tlie  gods  seem  to  be  worsliip(>(l  more  often  as  a  matter  of 
gain,  as  a  superstitious  olfei'Ing  to  good  luck  and  pi'osperity, 
and  even  while  they  are  worshij)ed  they  are  laughed  at,  I 
am  told,  by  the  more  intelligent  Japanese,  just  as  the  super- 
stitious Christian  will  often  i-efuse  to  eat  with  twelve  others 
at  table,  will  fret  if  he  sees  the  nu)on  over  his  left  shoulder, 
or  breaks  a  looking-glass,  laughing  at  the  same  time  at  his 


A  TEMPLE  CROWDED   WITH   fJODS. 


^47 


1 
II 

rs 

if, 

lis 


own  superstitious  fears.  I)()ul)tless,  witli  many  people,  the 
worship  of  these  heatiien  deities  is  a  most  serious  aud  lieart- 
I'elt  afl'air,  and  is  to  them  far  more  than  a  su[)erstition  to  be 
sneei'od  at.  Ja])an  is  not  now  a  hind  under  tlie  absohitc 
domini(m  of  eitlier  Shintoisni  or  Buddhism;  the  real  conflict 
of  (/hristianity  is  not  with  the  false  relif^ions  of  the  East,  but 
the  skepticism  of  tlu;  West,  not  with  Confucius  and  his 
"  chilly  cult,"  but  with  tiie  infidelity  of  Paine  and  Voltaire, 
llosseau  and  Kenan. 

The  Saiijusan;Ljcndo  temple  is  interesting  chiefly  because 
of  the  great  number  of  deities  packed  away  beneath  its  ro(jf. 
It  is  sometimes  called  th(;  temple  of  the  three  thousand  gods, 
at  other  times  of  the  thirty-three  thousand,  while  it  is  some- 
times even  known  as  the  abode  of  the  three  hundred  and 
thirty-three  thousand,  thi'ee  hundred  and  thirty-three,  all 
depending  U])on  liow  one  counts  the  gods. 

Inside  are  long,  long  rows  of  large  figures,  some  thousand 
in  all,  if  I  counted  correctly,  each  with  many  hands,  and  a 
multitude  of  smaller  gods  springing  from  the  lu>ads  and 
fingers,  while  in  the  center  is  a  huge  liuddhawith  a  hundred 
hands  each 'covenul  with  a  multitude  of  smaller  deities. 
Counting  all  the  gods,  hirge  and  small,  then^  aro,  certainly 
over  three  thousand,  and  as  certainly  less  than  tln'ce  hundred 
and  thirty-three  thousand,  but  what  the  exact  number  may 
be,  an  aritiimetician  must  decide;. 

Back  of  this  temple  is  an  interesting  sj)ot  where,  in  the 
early  days,  the  stalwart  youtii  of  .Ia[)an  practiced  archery, 
the  great  feat  being  to  send  an  arrow  in  a  horizontal  line, 
without  too  much  elevation,  the  entire  length  of  the  temple. 
The  whole  tem])le  roof  and  the  space  under  the  eaves  were 
formerly  shot  thick  with  arrow  heads  which  had  strayed 
from  the.  mark ;  but  these  are  now  mostly  removed  by  relic; 
hunters,  and  we  saw  but  few  still  sticking  in  tin;  roof. 


us 


SKILLFUL  WOOD  CARVERS. 


Perhaps  the  most  interesting  temple  in  Kioto,  all  tilings 
considered,  is  the  llong-wangi.  It  is  asserted  by  some 
recent  writers  that  no  new  Buddhist  temples  are  being  built, 
and  that  the  old  ones  are  turablin<if  into  decay.  The  Ilonff- 
wangi  temple,  however,  disputes  this  assertion,  for  it  is  still 
incomplete,  and  was  begun  only  a  few  years  since.  It  is 
erected  by  one  of  the  most  liberal  sects  of  the  Buddhists,  for 
the  Buddhists,  like  the  Christians,  are  divided  into  manv 
sects  and  parties,  which  regard  each  other  with  far  more 


A   BUDDHIST  SHUINE. 


rancor  than  Christian  denominations  ever  felt  one  for 
another.  In  this  new  temple  are  some  of  the  finest  speci- 
mens of  Japanese  wood  carving  to  be  found  in  any  part  of 
the  Empire.  Birds  and  fish  and  flowers  and  foliage  of 
excpiisite  workmanship  abound,  though  often  hidden  under 
the  eaves,  where  they  are  seen  with  the  utmost  difficulty. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  sights  about  this  temple  is 
the  great  coils  of  rope,  made  of  human  hair,  with  which  the 
heavy  beams  w^ere  hoisted  into  their  places.  This  hair  was 
contributed  as  the    offering  of    thousands  and  thousands 


•!(. 
t 


ROPES    MADE   OF   HUMAN   HAIR. 


5>40 


of  devoted  women  and  girls,  and  after  being  used  to  hoist 
the  beams  and  I'afters  into  their  })laces  is  preserved  in  these 
great  coils,  six  inches  through  and  thousands  of  feet  in 
length,  for  the  veneration  of  future  devotees.  The  nujst 
pathetic  of  these  coils  were  made  of  gray  hair,  evidently  the 
contribution  of  old  grandams  whose  faith  had  survived  the 
weary  years  that  had  whitened  their  locks. 


-W*^'?!? 


AN   INLAND   AaiXAQE. 


IS 

Ihe 
[as 
Ids 


.  The  pillars  of  this  temple  are  made  of  the  beautiful 
Keyaki  wood,  the  most  famous  building  material  in  all 
Japan.  These  pillars  are  immensely  tall  and  straight,  often 
three  or  four  feet  in  diameter,  and  beautifully  polished. 

There  is  an  interesting  history  connected  with  one  of  the 
most  elegant  of  these  pillars.  The  tree  grew  in  an  inland 
village  and  was  the  pride  and  delight  of  all  the  villagers. 
The  priests  wanted  it  for  the  new  temple,  but  could  not 


260 


A   SELF-SACRIFICING    DEVOTEE. 


rr/rf«>V^ 


obtain  it  for  lovo  or  money,  until  one  devoted  Buddiiist,  for 
the  sake  of  renderin<^  it  Avorthless  wiiere  it  stood,  hung  him- 
self from  its  branches,  thus  maiving  it  accursed  and  at  the 
dis})()sal  of  whoever  desired  to  cut  it  down.  In  conse(juenco 
of  the  self-sacrilico  of  that  devotee  the  llongwangi  temple 
rejoices  to-day  in  its  most  beautiful  pillar. 

I  The     priests 

k  have  a  fasiiion 

v^  of    saying  that 

these  pillars 
were  not  hauled 
to  the  temple, 
but  made  their 
own  way  thith- 
e  r  w  a  r  d  ,  t  h  e 
^  facts  being  that 
the  people  of 
one  village,  in 
their  enthusias- 
tic fervor,  Avoukl 
haul  the  log  to 
the  nearest  vil- 
lage, they  to  the 
next,  and  so  on, 
until  at  'last  it 
reached  Kioto, 
and  was  estab- 
lished in  its  })lace  among  the  stately  columns  of  the 
Ilongwangi  temple. 

Another  of  the  lions  of  Kioto  is  the  royal  palace,  Avhere, 
until  twenty-five  years  ago,  for  a  full  millennium  abode  His 
Imperial  Majesty,  the  Mikado  of  Japan.  Not  that  he  and 
his  ancestors  occupied  this  particular  palace,  for  the  build- 


rcsn—- 


/— -— UMcJh'M^  -  I—    II  ■!  Ill  ■ 


A   WAYSIDE   SIiniXR. 


AN  AMUSING  NOTICE. 


251 


ings  were  oiicn  destroyed  by  esirtluiuiiko  uiid  fire,  l)iit 
were  as  often  rebuilt  in  the  same  fashion  as  of.  ohl ;  and 
as  one  enters  he  can  see  to-day  how  the  Mikados  lived  a 
thousand  years  ago. 

After  having  received  a  special  ])ermit,  we  awaitetl  in 
the  cold  vestibule  the  pleasure  of  our  guides,  who  are  never 
in  any  hurry  in  Japan  to  do  the  honors  of  their  show  places. 
While  waiting  we  had  ample  time  to  read  the  notice  which 
in  English  and  Japanese  confronts  every  visitor.     Here  it  is : 


Id 
Ito 

lil- 
iie 
m, 

it 

o, 
Ivb- 

lie 

Ire, 
his 

Ind 
lid- 


VISITORS  WHO  HAVE  BEEN  AUTHORIZED  TO  VISIT  THE 
IMPERIAL  PALACE  MUST  BEFORE  ENTERING  PRESENT  AT  THE 
ENTRANCE  THEIR  VISITING  CARDS  AND  REQUEST  TO  BE  CON- 
DUCTED INTO  THE  PALACE.  ALSO  SIGN  THEIR  NAMES,  GIVING 
FULL  INFORMATION  AS  TO  OFFICIAL  AND  DIGNITARY  TITLES. 
VISITORS  ARE  NOT  ALLOWED  TO  WEAR  BOOTS  OR  SHOES  IN 
THE  PALACE.  VISITORS  SHOULD  LEAVE  THEIR  OVERCOAT, 
MITTEN,  STICK,  WALKING  STICK,  CANE,  OR  WHATEVER  THEY 
TAKE  WITH  THEM  EITHER  TO  THE  ATTENDANT  OR  TO  THE 
SERVANT  OF  THE  PALACE   StFORE  THEY  ENTER  THE  PALACE." 


Not  being  encumbered  with  any  ''  mitten  "  we  only  took 
off  our  shoes,  de])osited  them  at  the  door,  and  left  our  "  stick, 
walking-stick,  and  cane,"  all  combined  in  one,  with  the 
attendant,  and  entered  within  the  royal  precincts. 

Though  one  would  not  Avish  to  miss  the  sight,  I  must 
admit  there  was  exceedingly  little  to  see.  After  living  a 
thousand  years  in  such  a  draughty  suite  of  rooms,  I  do  not 
wonder  the  Mikados  were  ready  to  move  to  Tokio,  though  I 
do  not  knoAV  that  their  present  abode  is  superior  to  the  old 
palace.  Cold  corridor  succeeded  cold  corridor,  and  room 
after  room,  each  as  bare  of  furniture  as  the  other;  no 
pictures  nor  bric-a-brac,  no  cozy  homelike  fireside,  no  shelf 
of  well-worn   books,  no  rocking-chair  for  the  old  grand- 


252  IN   A  JAPANESE  ROYAL   PALACE. 

mother,  or  high-chair  for  the  baby,  no  bed  or  lounge  or  rug 
or  hassock  to  give  them  a  habitable  look.  Every  room  and 
hall  and  corridor  is  covered  with  matting  of  exactly  the 
same  pattern,  in  strips  exactly  three  feet  wide  by  exactly  six 
feet  long,  and  bound  with  red  or  blue  braid.  To  be  sure, 
there  were  finely-i)ainted  screens  in  almost  every  room, 
which  would  have  been  the  envy  of  all  connoisseurs  in 
Japanese  art.  In  one  room,  too,  was  the  throne,  which  was 
a  very  uncomfortable  but  highly  carved  and  gilded  piece  of 
the  modern  cabinet-maker's  art,  Avhile  before  it  were  three 
low  stools  on  which  the  maces,  wands,  and  other  insignia  of 
office  were  laid. 

In  the  imperial  study  were  beautiful  screens  decorated 
on  all  sides  with  wild  geese  in  full  fliglit.  Whether  this 
indicated  that  the  study  of  Confucius  which  formerly  occu- 
pied the  young  Mikados  in  this  room  was  a  "  wild  goose 
chase,"  or  not,  I  am  not  sure.  Very  likely,  however,  the 
young  Mikados  of  old  were  of  the  same  opinion  as  Solomon 
and  the  modern  school  boy  that  "much  study  is  a  weariness 
unto  the  flesh."  Who  can  tell  how  many  successive  Mikados 
have  whiled  away  the  tedious  hours  by  watching  the  wild 
geese  flying  about  the  room  on  these  screens? 

The  Emperor's  bedroom,  like  all  the  other  rooms  except 
the  throne-room,  was  entirely  bare  and  empty  of  everything 
that  could  be  called  furniture.  In  one  corner  was  a  square, 
six  or  eight  feet  across,  made  of  cement,  on  which  dirt  was 
sprinkled  every  morning,  so  that  the  Emperor  might  wor- 
ship the  shades  of  his  ancestors  on  the  soil  (as  his  religion 
demanded),  without  leaving  his  own  bedroom.  Thus,  even 
before  the  days  of  cushioned  pews  and  high-priced  choirs, 
was  worship  made  as  easy  as  possible  for  those  who  can 
afford  it. 

In  the  great  open  square,  around  which  the  royal  rooms 


i 


THE  LEGEND  OF  A  CHERRY  TREE. 


253 


are  Imilt,  Avere  some  feeble  attempts  at  landscape  gardening. 
A  little  stream  antl  rgckery  and  a  few  clumps  of  bamboos 
are  maintained  tliere,  just  as  they  have  been  for  hundreds  of 
years.  Near  the  Emperor's  bedroom  Avas  a  cherry  tree,  the 
progenitors  of  Avhich  were  planted  by  a  great  IMikado  hun- 
dreds of  years  ao'o,  and 
when  that  rotted  away 
a  plum  tree  took  its 
place;  then  another 
cherry  tree  succeeded 
by  another  plum  tree; 
but  always  in  that  par- 
ticular spot  there  has 
been  for  ten  hundred 
and  thirty -two  years  a 
fruit  tree  for  successive 
Mikados  to  gaze  upon. 
This  dynasty  of  the 
Japanese  Mikados  is 
the  oldest  ruling  house 
in  all  the  world.  For 
twenty-five  h  u  n  d  r  e  d 
years  the  same  family 
has  occupied  the 
throne.  Before  Eng- 
land, or  France,  or  Ger- 
many, or  Russia  were 
so  much  as  dreamed 
of,  Japan's  Emperor  held  royal  sway.  When  the  Greeks 
were  at  the  height  of  their  power  the  ]n'esent  reigning  fam- 
ily of  Japan  had  begun  to  bear  sway.  The  present  Mikado, 
if  I  am  not  mistaken,  is  the  one  hundred  and  twenty-fifth 
who  has  occupied  the  throne  in  direct  succession.     How 


A  JAPANESE   FAKMEU. 


'25i 


TEMPTING  THE  TOURIST  S  PURSE. 


does  that  strike  you,  O  ye  aristocrats,  who  can  trace  your 
lineage  back  at  most  for  a  few  paltry  centuries,  or  j)ei'ha])s 
for  only  a  few  scores  of  years?  Ye  are  i)arvenues,  indeed, 
beside  the  royal  family  of  Japan,  even  though  ye  came  over 
with  William  the  Concjueror  himself. 

Nagoya  is  a  seat  of  manufacture  of  much  of  the  finest 
ware  exported  fi'om  Japan,  and  the  beautiful  conceits  and 
imexpected  forms  iiito  which  cups  and  teapots,  bowls  and 
])lates  are  cast,  makes  them  the  despair  of  the  connoisseur  in 
china.  Each  new  article  seems  lovelier  than  the  last,  and 
tempts  the  lean  purse  to  open  once  more,  even  though  the 
vision  of  a  long  voyage  and  imperious  Custom  House 
officials  at  the  end  teach  caution  and  economy. 

The  ravages  of  the  great  earthquake  of  1891  are  now 
]')retty  well  re})aired,  but  cracks  aiul  huge  lissui'cs  in  mud 
walls,  buildings,  and  even  in  the  ground  itself  remam  to 
show  the  havoc  wrought  by  the  wrestling  of  the  subter- 
ranean demons. 

The  most  beautiful  castle  in  existence  in  Ja]ian  is  foimd 
in  Nagoya.  It  is  used  now  for  barracks  f(jr  the  ]m])erial 
troops,  and  is  surmounted  by  two  huge  golden  d()lj)hins 
whose  scales  are  made  of  large  Japanese  golden  c(jins.  The 
whole  value  of  the  doli)liins  is  not  less  than  $180,000.  One 
of  them  was  (jnce  on  exhibition  at  a  great  Euro})ean  ex- 
position. It  was  wrecked  and  lost  on  the  way  home,  in  the 
Bay  of  Biscay^  and  great  was  the  rejoicing  on  the  ])art  of 
all  loyal  Ja})anese,  when  a  famous  diver  fished  it  from  its 
watery  bed  (for  which  the  dolphin  evidently  had  an  affinity), 
and  it  was  })erche(l  once  more,  high  and  diy,  upon  the  pin- 
nacle of  the  Xagoya  castle. 

In  some  of  these  busy  towns  through  which  we  pass,  we 
are  very  likely  to  find  that  some  gala  day  is  being  cele- 
brated, and  that  half  the  inhabitants   are  gathered   in  the 


JAPANESE  JUGGLERS   AND  ACROBATS. 


255 


public  stjuare  to  watch  the  ju^i^glers  and  acrobats,  who,  on 
liigh  hidders,  balanced  in  the  most  ticklish  fashion,  are 
dancing  and  turning  somersaults  and  standing  on  their 
heads  and  cavorting  around  generally,  yet  always  landing 
right  side  up  on  their  feet  when  the  show  is  over. 

Osaka  is  famous  for  its  castle,  too,  and  also  for  its  mint, 
an  institution  carried  on  uj)on  the  most  approved  modern 
])lans,  and  which  turns  out  as  finely  linished  and  l)eautiful 
€oins  as  are  made  by  any  country  in  the  world.  AVliat  inter- 
ested me  most  in  (Jsaka  was,  perhaps,  the  lish  nuirket.     This 


%;S^^ 


JAPANE8K   ACROBATS. 


I  went  to  see  early  in  the  morning,  and  if  there  is  any 
variety  of  the  finny  tribe  which  was  not  on  sale  in  the 
Osaka  fish  market  that  morning,  I  should  like  to  see  it.  It 
is  said  that  two  hundred  species  of  edible  fish  are  found  off 
the  Ja])an  coast,  and  not  one  of  them,  I  am  convinced,  was 
missing  from  that  Eastern  Billingsgate.  P>hie  fish  and  green 
lish,  red  fish  and  yellow  lish,  and  lish  combining  all  the 
colors  of  the  rainl)ow,  long  lish  and  short  fish,  fat  fish  and 
lean  fish,  thin  fish  and  stout  fish,  al)ounded  in  every  stall. 
Stjuids  and  cuttle  fish,  dev'l  fish  and  skates  Avcre  found,  and 
every  variety  of  octo])Us,  es])ecially  that  with  the  long,  jelly- 


>oO 


IN  A  JAPANESE   FISH   MARKET. 


«' 


like,  cruel  tentacles,  which,  if  they  get  hold  of  a  man  under 
"vvater,  would  evidently  hold  liim  fast  until  the  life  blood  was 
sucked  dry. 

Besides  these  were  sculpins  and  spine  llsh,  eels,  big  and 
little,  sea  snails  and  suckers,  and  all  kinds  of  hlche  de  mer. 
Doli)hins,  too,  seemed  to  ])lay  a  prominent  part  in  this  fish 
market,  and  the  great  red  chunks  of  meat  cut  out  of  them 
and  exposed  for  sale  gave  the  stalls  the  appearance  of  a 
butcher's  shop  where  Texas  beef  was  the  sta})lc  article.  It 
was  most  interesting  to  Avatch  the  way  in  which  the  fish 
Avere  auctioned  off.  The  auctioneer  will  present  a  tray  of 
cuttle  fish  or  squids,  for  instance,  praising  them  up  in  true 
auctioneer  style,  and  knock  it  off  to  the  highest  bidder  all  in 
a  quarter  of  a  minute,  for  he  has  a  hundred  trays  to  dispose 
of,  and  cannot  dwell  long  rtn  any  one  lot.  His  shrill  voice, 
added  to  the  shouts  of  the  fishermen  and  the  objurgations  of 
the  buyers,  always  inseparable,  as  it  Avould  seem,  from  Bil- 
lingsgate, whether  in  Ja])an  or  England,  made  a  pandemo- 
nium not  soon  to  be  forgotten. 

We  take  off  our  hats  and  make  our  best  salaams  to  the 
recedinjr  shores  of  these  lovely  islands  which  we  luive  so 
much  enjoyed  visiting.  We  can  only  i)ray  that  as  Japan 
grows  great  in  material  affairs,  as  it  surely  will  as  it  adopts 
the  civilization  of  Western  nations,  it  may  also  adopt  the  re- 
ligion and  the  Bible  which  alone  have  made  those  nations 
truly  great. 


I 

-  I 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


OUR  UETURX  TO  ClIIX-V- THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  CHINESE 
LIFE  — OPIUM  FIENDS  AND  FAN-TAN  OAMRLEHS  — ODD 
WAYS   OF   AN  ODD   lM-]OPLE —DISPOSAL   OF    THE    DEAD. 

An  Obstriu'ling  Bar  —  The  Will  of  Heaven — Almond  Eyes  and  Pigtails 

—  Noiseless  John — How  John  Cliinanian  Treats  Anierieans  in  Shanghai 

—  Colossal  Coneeit — Tlie  Future  of  the  Celestial  Enqjire  —  Shoes  Two 
Cents  a  Pair  —  A  Chinese  (Jroeery  Store —  Dried  Kidneys  and  Chiekens' 
Livers — Varnished  Pig  —  Allowable  Tiieft  —  A  Chinese  Ri(<'  Mill  — 
Arrested  Devekxpment  —  How  Chinese  Paper  is  Made  —  Riee  Paper  — 
How  it  is  Produced  —  Woebegone,  Einaeiated  Faces  —  The  Seamy  Side 
of  Chinese  Life — "  Hitting  the  Pipe  "  —  Opium  Fiends — Fan-tan  Gam- 
blers —  Intense  Excitement  —  Cliinese  ^lusic  —  Unearthly  Screeching  — 
Prolonged  and  Awful  Caterwauling  —  Human  Reasts  of  Rnrden  — 
China  and  Japan  Agriculturally  Considered  —  Rotation  of  Crops  — 
Novel  Ice  Harvesting  —  Fish  Farming  —  An  Odd  Way  of  Fishing  — 
A  Great  Funeral  —  Funeral  Raked  Meats  —  Baby  Towers  of  Shanghai. 

X  the  (lay  aftei'  ('Iiristiiiiis,  the 
stwuner  Yokohama  J/r/;v^  which 
boro  us  from  the  l)eautiful  shores 
of  Ja])ati,  steamed  ii[)  to  lier 
(h)('k  in  Shanghai,  and  we  found 
ourselves  once  more  in  China. 

8hano-hai    is    probably    the 
greatest  commercial  port  of  the 
far   Eiist.     Vessels  i)earing  the 
flags  of  every  nation  discharge 
I  ^^^^^^^^^^  ji^-  their  cargoes  at  iier  warehouse 

doors.  At  least,  they  do  this 
figurjitively  speaking,  and  would  be  glad  to  do  it  literally, 
were  it  not  for  the  obstructing  bai'  netir  the  mouth  of  the 
Yang-tse-Kiang  river. 

This  bar  the  Chinese  government  tdlows  to  fill  up  with 
10  ( •.>5r ) 


J 


! 


258 


VELVET-FOOTED   CHINAMEN. 


silt  from  tlic  upixM*  rivor,  and  novor  makes  any  effort  to  re- 
move it,  or  to  J'oi'ni  a  new  channel,  as  mi<;lit  easily  be  done. 

"It  is  the  will  of  heaven,"  say  theses  fatalistic  (^elestials; 
"  we  will  not  interfere." 

I  strong-ly  sus])ect,  howevei",  tliat  it  is  the  will  of  the  high 
Chinese  authorities  as  well,  who  ai'c^  not  at  all  averse  to 
keeping  the  ''foreign  devils  "  out  of  theii*  t(M'rit(jiy  even  at 
the  expense  of  ruining  their  best  sea])ort. 

Be  that  as  it  nuiy,  the  poi't  of  Shanghai  is  ali'eady  inac- 
cessible to  the  largest  vessels,  and  men  moderate-sized 
steamers  sometimes  must  wait  for  days  befoi'e  they  can  cross 
the  bar  at  Woosung,  where  all  the  large  steamers  take  on 
and  discharge?  tlieii'  cargo. 

Shanghai  consists  of  three  cities  united  l)y  contiguity 
and  commercial  interests;  the  American  and  English  con- 
cessions which  are  under  one  municij)al  government,  the 
French  concession  which  is  a  municipality  by  itself,  and  the 
native  city,  enclosed  by  a  high  wall,  into  whc^se  narrow 
streets  are  ci'owded  hundi'eds  of  thousands  of  human  beings. 

Do  not  suppose,  however,  that  English,  Amei'ican,  and 
Fi'encli  Shanghai  are  largely  iidiabited  by  Englishmen, 
Americans,  and  FrenchnuMi.  A  few  ])Coi)le  of  these  nation- 
alities there  are,  a  few  tlujusands  among  himdi'eds  of  thou- 
sands, but  to  search  for  a  foreigner  even  in  many  ])arts  of 
the  foreign  concessions,  is  like  looking  foi-  the  traditional 
needle  in  the  hay-uiow. 

Every  whei'e  ai'e  almond  eyes  and  pig-tails  ;  long,  flapping- 
blouses,  loose,  baggy  drawers,  and  thick  felt  sli})})ers,  Avhose 
wearei's  seem  to  steal  along  like  cats,  so  noiselessly  they  go. 
Especially  is  this  noticeal)le  to  those  who  come  from  Japan, 
Avliere  the  noisy  wooden  shoes  clatter  over  the  hard  I'oads 
and  across  the  asphalt  ]>latforms  of  the  railway  stations  like 
ten  thousand  castanets,  each  playing  a  different  tune. 


AN   EYE   TO   BUSINESS. 


259 


sc 
(). 
n, 
lis 
ke 


'^o  he  stii'c,  tlicrc  iii'(>  some  line  forci^'ii  b'lsiiu'ss  blocks  in 
Sliiiiigliiii,  and  Iwoor  three  e(>iis])icu<)iis  cliiii-clies;  and  the 
hund  or  water  front,  with  its  beautiful  botanical  "garden  and 
substantial  banks,  warehouse's,  and  I'esideuces,  it  would  bo 
dillicult  to  surjjass  in  any  city  ;  but,  after  all,  the  |)revai]in<^ 
inii)ression  of  Shan,ii,'hai  is  of  a  hui^-e  Chinatown  with  a  small 
admixture  of  San  Francisco.  In  fact,  the  tables  arc;  ()uito 
turned  on  th(3  metropolis  of  our  I'acitic  coast.  Ilei'e  (^hina 
very  evidently  bears  sway,  and  the  little  handful  of  Ameri- 
cans must  say  ''  I>y  youi'  leave." 

However,  in  spite  of  the  general  shabby  treatment 
accorded  to  -John  in  the  Tnited  States,  there;  seems  to  Ik;  no 
antipathy  to  Ainei'icaiis  in  Siianghai.  The  {ivera<^'e  .lohn 
(■iiinaman  is  too  shi'ewd  to  cut  oil'  his  no.se  to  s])ito  his  face, 
and  he  knows  that  tiie  pi'esence  of  En«^'lishmen,  Americans, 
and  Frenchmen  means  trade  and  commerce,  cash  for  his  till, 
jinrikisha  money,  ami  small  chan<.^'e  <^'enerally,  which  other- 
wise; he  must  g'o  without. 

Moreover,  so  fai'  as  Americans  <^'o,  he  knows  that  while 
he  has  ami)le  reason  to  resent  their  ])resence  in  his  native 
land,  he  has  far  £>:reater  cause  to  abominate  other  forei<>-ners 
who  have  imposed  still  heavier'  burdenis  upon  his  [)atient 
shoulders.  So,  instead  of  be<>'innin<2,'  his  warfare  upon 
brother  .Jonathan,  lie  will  begin  with  ,lohnny  Bull  or 
-lohnny  Ci'apaud,  as  umloubtedly  his  worst  enemies. 

Tntil  within  a  few  years,  Aniei'icans  have  stood  hig'hest 
in  the  estimatiem  of  the  Chinamen.  Of  late  years,  not 
uujuiturally,  theii'  stock  has  declined  in  the  Chinese  market, 
and  now  tin  .,ormans  (perhaps  because  they  have  had  fewer 
oi)poi'tunities  to  abuse  China)  are  the  favorite  people  through- 
out the;  Celestial  Emjnre. 

What  the  future  of  China  will  be,  is  yet  an  unsolved 
mvstery.     That  she  should  always  nuuntain  her  stolid  indif- 

It/  t. 


2G0 


UNRESPONSIVE   CHINA. 


i» 


ference  to  "Western  civilization  seems  impossil)le.  In  spfte  of 
her  im penetrable  husk  of  prejudice  and  self-satisfied  conceit, 
her  settled  conviction  that  her  wavs  are  the  best  ways,  and 
that  no  untutored  barbarian  can  teach  her  anvthino',  it 
seems  to  nie  that  the  rushing,  seething-,  nineteenth  century 
life  which  is  continuallv  beating  against  her  shores  must 
eventually  make  an  impi'ession.  Sooner  or  later  thehistincts 
that  are  being  awakened  in  the  breasts  of  all  the  rest  of 
mankind  for  a  largei",  freer,  better  life  will  find  a  response  in 
the  heart  of  Chinadom  as  well. 

But  I  am  convinced  that  there  is  only  one  touch  that  can 
awaken  the  unresponsive  heart  of  China,  and  that  is  the 
touch  of  Christ's  hand. 

Commerce  has  been  knocking  at  her  doors  for  nearly  a 
thousand  years,  and  has  not  aroused  her  from  her  letluirgy. 
Foreign  cannon  have  thundered  at  the  gate;^  of  all  her  chief 
cities  and  they  have  not  awakened  lier.  Foreign  inventions 
and  labor  saving  contrivances;  railways  and  steamboats, 
electric  lights  and  modern  conveniences,  have  been  presented 
to  her  in  vain  ;  and  all  have  failed  to  shame  her  out  of  her 
stolid  self-conceit.  She  has  gone  back  to  her  wheelbarrow 
and  her  sedan-chair,  her  paper  lantern  and  her  clumsy  jurdv, 
convinced  that  "  we  are  the  people  and  wisdom  Avill  die  with 
us,"  and  that  the  paltry  inventions  of  "  foreign  devils "  are 
not  worth  copying. 

What  chance  then  is  there  for  such  a  nation  except  that 
which  lies  in  the  arousing  of  her  dormant  spiritual  energies 't 
This  is  the  mission  of  the  missionaries  of  the  Cross.  Already 
many  of  them  tell  me  that  they  see  indications  of  a  "■  break"  in 
this  benumbing  national  self-sufficiency,  and  Avlien  the  break 
does  come,  what  a  torrent  of  spiritual  activity  may  we  not 
hope  to  see.  To  be  sure  this  good  day  may  not  come  in 
this  generation  or  the  next,  but  some  day  I  believe  the  holes 


A   WALKING   SHOE   SHOP. 


201 


V 


ot 
in 

es 


already  made  in  the  dike  of  prejudice  will  widen  until  the 
whole  nation  is  flooded  with  the  life-giving  waters  of  the 
Gospel. 

Let  us  take  a  walk  this  brisk  December  morning  through 
the  crowded  streets  of  Shanghai.  Until  the  edge  of  novelty 
is  dulled  every  common  shoj)  is  filled  Avitli  marvels.  He 
who  only  looks  for  the  treasui'es  oi  the  Orient  in  the  ex- 
pensive curio  stores,  which  abound  at  the  seaports,  will  miss 
most  of  them.  To  be  sure  he  will  there  Ihid  exquisite 
carved  ivory  and  lac(pier  ware,  marvelously  beautiful 
bronzes,  figures  in  wood  that  are  almost  beyond  price,  and 
pieces  of  china  and  jiorcelain  of  fabulous  cost.  Nearly  all 
these  treasures,  or  their  duplicates,  he  could  ihid  in  almost 
any  large  American  city.  But  the  treasures  we  look  for  are 
found  in  every  common  shop  and  home  in  China,  and  really 
I'epresent  Oriental  life  and  ways. 

Here,  for  instance,  comes  a  nuin  bending  under  the 
weight  of  two  hundred  pairs  of  shoes,  made  of  honest, 
undisguised  rice  straw  ;  uppers,  soles,  shoe-strings  and  all,  of 
braided  rice  straw.  AVishing  to  take  home  a  pair  as  a 
souvenir  of  the  Shanghai  shoe  dealer,  Ave  incpiire  the  ])rice, 
and,  after  not  a  little  difficulty  Avitli  his  language  and  he 
with  ours,  find  that  his  chai'ge  is  thirty  "  cash,"  about  two 
American  cents  })er  })air.  Thinking  this  is  not  extravagant 
Ave  purchase  a  pair,  but  find  out  afterAvards  from  our  friends 
that  Ave  have  been  sadly  overreached,  and  that  liis  price  to  a 
Chinaman  Avould  not  haA'e  been  oA'er  fifteen  or  twenty  cash, 
or  a  trifle  over  one  cent  a  pair. 

But  here  is  a  store  from  which,  though  it  is  interesting, 
Ave  can  take  no  souvenirs  home,  for  it  is  a  provision  store, 
and  the  greasy,  unwholesome  looking  provender  exposed  for 
sale  Avould,  aa'c  fear,  turn  the  stonuichs  of  our  more  fastidious 
friends. 


2G3 


DRIED   KIDNEYS   AND   VARNISHED   PIG. 


In  the  next  store  are  many  festoons  of  chickens'  livers, 
dried  and  strung-  like  hiig-e  ill-sliaped  beads.  Other  strings 
of  dried  kidneys  hang  from  the  ceiling,  and  many  long 
rosaries  of  skinny  chickens'  legs  tied  together  and  hung  up 
in  loops,  like  great,  uncanny  necklaces,  dangle  from  the 
roof. 

In  these  provision  stores  are  also  seen  suspended  from 
the  roof,  as  our  gr-andmothers  suspended  dried  ap})les  and 
pum])kins,  strings  of  ducks,  split  oi)en  and  pressed  fiat  as 
pancakes  in  the  drying  i)rocess.  Here,  too,  are  greasy  look- 
mg  sausages,  each  one  on  a  little  stick  of  its  own,  and  near 
the  doorway  is  usually  a  pig,  varnished  and  roasted  whole, 
until  he  is  of  a  most  delicious-looking  brown. 

If  the  j)orker  tastes  as  he  looks,  I  do  not  wonder  that  he 
is  a  favorite  article  of  consumption  among  the  followers  of 
Confucius.  The  proprietor  of  the  provision  store  sits  in  front 
behind  a  little  railetl-in  desk,  and  seems  in  no  hurry  for  cus- 
tomers. In  fact,  it  is  quite  your  own  matter  whether  you 
buy  or  not,  and  he  often  affects  su]n'eme  indifference  as 
though  he  was  beyond  the  mercenary  considerations  of  trade. 
Before  him  is  an  abacus,  and  great  strings  of  copper  cash 
coiled  one  over  the  other, —  twenty  ])ounds  weight  or  more. 

But  do  not  think  that  this  indifferent  shopkeeper  is  not 
shrewd  at  a  bargain.  American  though  you  may  be,  with 
generations  of  bargaining  blood  in  your  veins,  he  is  a  match 
for  you.  Look  out  for  him  if  you  have  any  transactions  to 
make,  for  his  code  of  morals  does  not  demand  any  line  de- 
gree of  scrupulosity.  He  will  not  cheat  you  very  much,  but 
a  little  sharp  practice  he  will  regard  quite  within  the  estab- 
lished limits  of  legitimate  trade.  In  fact,  petty  peculation  is 
such  a  recognized  custom,  tliat  if  a  servant  does  not  steal 
more  than  a  certain  per  cent,  of  his  master's  substance,  he 
is  never  even  threatened  with  the  law. 


I 


A  NOVEL   PLEA. 


HQS 


I  was  told  thiit  a  certuhi  iiuistor,  new  to  the  country, 
liaving  (lotected  his  servant  in  a  small  dishonesty,  brought 
him  before  the  court.  Whereupon  the  servant  admitted  his 
guilt  but  claimed  and  ])roved  that  his  peculations  had  not 
amounted  to^more  than  fifteen  per  cent,  of  his  wages.  Upon 
this  astoiuxling  })lea  of  comp<iratim  innocence,  the  judge 
fully  acquitted  him  without  even  a  re}n'inuind. 


^^f^H* 


A    CHINESE    HICK    MILL. 


As  we  continue  our  walk  through  Shanghai,  we  come  to 
a  miller''s  establishment  next  door  to  our  provision  dealer. 
Here  are  a  dozen  men  Avorking  in  a  treadmill,  which  raises, 
as  thev  tread  their  monotonous  round,  a  row  (^f  huge  mal- 
lets.  These  uiallets,  poised  high  in  air,  descend  into  a  stone 
well,  partly  lilled  with  uidmsked  rice  or  paddy.  After  being 
pountled  by  these  mallets  for  a  suiKcient  time,  the  grain  is 
separated  from  the  chafT  and  is  then  taken  out  and  winnowed 
bv  hand.     There  are  other  kinds  of  rice  mills,  but  even  the 


ICA 


HOW    I'AI'EK   IS   MADE   IN   CHINA. 


1 


11 


1,', 

iii!! 


commonest  processes  are  yet  very  ])i'iiiiitive  in  this   f^reat 
emjtire  of  the  East. 

All  China  seems  to  furnish  an  oxamj)le  of  arrested  (h^vel- 
ojmient.  Before  any  other  natioji,  douhtless,  China  used 
))ajK'r  and  gunpowder,  movable  ty])es,  and  tlie  mariner's 
eom])ass,  but  she  lias  never  improved  upon  her  lii'st  I'oiigh 
draughts.  As  she  made  these  ai'ticles  a  thousaiul  years  ago 
she  nuUvCs  them  now.  AVith  most  nations  a  new  invention 
of  any  kind  is  only  a  beginning  of  inventions.  A  great  dis- 
covery in  physics  or  cheniistiy  in  other  nations  only  sets 
men's  minds  on  tlu^  alei-t  for  other  discovei'ies  and  improve- 
ments in  the  same  line.  Outside  of  (Miina  lu)  invention  is 
complete  at  first.  The  i)erfect  nuichine  is  the  product  of 
many  minds  and  of  much  expei'inienting.  In  the  middle 
kingdom,  liowever,  a  machine  once  invented  is  invented  for 
all  time.  Ko  improvements  a])}»eMr,  no  I'ivals  set  their  wits 
at  work  to  find  a  bettei*  and  chcaiH'r  way  to  ])roduce  the 
same  result.  When  once  a  method  is  i)(jinted  out,  it  is  imi- 
tated by  unreasonmg  generations  for  countless  future  years. 

For  instance,  a  "well-informed  "writer  "who  spent  many 
years  in  China  in  the  consular  service  of  (rreat  ]>ritain,  tells 
us  of  the  present-day  process  of  making  the  ordinary  Chi- 
nese paper.  "  There  is  an  entire  absence  of  machinery,"  he 
says,  ''for  washing  and  shredding  rags;  there  are  no  troughs 
of  pul[),  chemicals  for  bleaching,  resin  for  watering,  wire 
molds  for  receiving,  and  di-ums  for  firming  the  paper  as  it 
comes  from  the  pulp  troughs.  Bamboo  stems  and  paddy 
straw  are  steeped  with  lime  in  deep  concrete  pits  in  the  open 
air,  and  allowed  to  soak  for  months.  When  nothing  but  the 
fibre  remains,  it  is  taken  out  and  rolled  with  a  heavy  stone 
roller  in  a  stone  well  until  all  the  lime  has  been  removed. 
A  small  quantity  of  the  fibre  is  placed  in  a  stone  trough  full 
of  water  and  the  whole  stirred  up.     A  close  bamboo  mold  is 


!iHl 


IN  A   CHINESE   PAPER   MILL. 


2G5 


tlien  passed  throui,'h  the  mixed  lll)i'e  and  water,  and  the  tihn 
whicli  adheres  to  it  (Mner<^es  as  a  sheet  of  ))a])er  which  is 
stuck  uj)  to  (h'v  oti  the  walls  of  a  room  ke^)t  at  a  hig'h  tem- 
perature. The  sheets  are  afterwards  collected  and  made  uj) 
into  ])undles  foi'  market." 


A   CHINESE   r.Vl'KU    MIL!,. 


Contrast  this  primitive  method  of  paper  making  with  the 
mills  of  New  England.  Yet,  in  the  idea  of  pa])er  making, 
China  had  the  start  of  us  b}'^  a  round  dozen  of  centuries. 

The  most  beautiful  i)a])er  which  I  saw  in  China  is  the  so- 
called  rice  paper;  a  soft,  delicate,  velvety  substance,  which 
takes  colors  to  perfection,  and  which  is  very  much  in  demand 


JiOG 


A   (TKIOIS    I'KOCKSS. 


I 


■'''.  I 

i.r 


rl 


I'oi-  llic  l»i'illi;iiit  walci'-color  |»;iint in;^s  in  wliicli  llic  Cliiiicsi* 
iirc  so  ('Xpert. 

1  ol'lcii  \\(iii(h'i'('(|  liow  this  |»;i|M'i'  \\;is  iii.'kIc,  so  (litl'crciit, 
is  il  IVoiii  any  ollici-  similar  prodiid  I  liaNc  ever  seen,  and 
lia\t'  only  just  learned  that  it  is  not  |»a|)er  at  all,  but  the 
pilli  of  a,  lar<^'e-leaA('d,  hiisli  like  plant,  w  liieli  ^rows  luxu- 
riantly in  tlie  province  of  Kueicliow.  My  inl'orniant  was 
invited  to  visit  a  worker  in  pith  alter  ni^lit  I'all.  Although 
soMiewliat  surpi'ised  at  (he  hour  named  lieae(('p(ed  the  in- 
vitation. On  his  arrival  he  was  ushered  int(;  a  liadly  li<:;iite(l 
room  where  a,  man  was  sitt  in^'  wit  h  his  tools  hel'ore  him. 
These  consisted  ot"  a  smoot  li  stone  ahoiil  a  h)ot  s(|Uare  and 
an  inch  and  a  half  thick,  and  a  lar^c  knife  (»r  hatchet  with  a 
sliorl-  wooden  handle.  The  lilade  was  altoiil,  a,  foot  lonii", 
two  inches  broad  and  nearly  half  an  inch  thick  at  tiie  baci-;. 
Jt  was  sharp  as  a  I'azor.  I'lacine;  a  piece  of  round  pith  on 
the  stone  and  his  left  hand  on  the  top,  he  rolled  the  pith 
biickwai'ds  and  forwards  for  a  moment  until  he  eol,  it  into 
i\\o.  rcMpiired  position.  Tiien,  sei/.inu'  iIk^  kuih'  with  his  ri^ht 
liaiid,  he  held  the  ed«;(>  of  ih,.  blade,  after  a  feint  or  two, 
(;h)se  to  tin'  pith,  which  he  kep'  rollino'  to  the  left  with  his 
left  hand  until  notliin<;'  remaine*.  .o  I'oll;  for  the  pith  iiad, 
by  the  a[»piication  of  the  knife,  been  pared  into  a,  s(|iiare, 
white  sheet  of  uniform  thickness. 

The  process  seemed  so  easy  that  the  vlsitoi*  detei'mined 
to  try  it  himself,  and,  posini;'  as  a.  professional  worl;ei',  he 
succeeded  in  liackin;^'  t;  pith  and  in  nearly  maim  in  «.;■  him- 
self for  life.  Ilt>  was  convniced  that,  a,  keen  eye  and  a 
stcsuiy,  experience(|    hand    were    needed    fol'   the    woi'k.      l''or 

( 

this  reason  these  sheets  ot  pith  are  manufactured  only  at 
nie'Iit  when  the  city  is  asleep  and  the  makers  are  not  liable 
to  b<'  disttM'JHtd, 

As  we  make  our  way  tlii'on<.''li  the  crowdecl  citv  we  see 


It 


IN    AM   OI'II'M    DKN. 


W7 


^y')v-\)^'<f^m^\  cMiMcinlcd  I'liccs  wliicli  iiidicjilc  iiini'(i  surely 
tliiiM  the  I'cd  ii<»st>  of  llic  (lriiiil<:ii'(l,  llic  NJctiiii  of  llif  o|)iiiiii 
liiihit.  ( )ii('  who  liiis  lived  iiiiy  leii^^lli  ol'  liiiK^  in  ('liiii.i  eiiii 
tell  :m  "<)|»imii  lieiid  "  ;d  ;i  ;4l;iiiee,  and  even  t<»  t  lie  st  ran<^('r 
llie  oH'aetorv  oi'j'aiis  "live  iiiiinediatc  and  eoneliisive  prnol'  of 
one's  approach  lo  an  opiiiin  den.  fn  liu'l  the  |)r<-\  ailin;^' 
odor  oi'  ( 'liiiia,  the  one  that  lin/^vrs  longest  in  the  tourist's 
nieliKM'V,  is  the  sickening'  stench  of  the  opiiini  pipe  that- 
seems  to  he  wal'ted  aloii;^'  {'\{'vy  street,  a,nd  allev  and  coiiri. 
In  the  ceiiler  of  a,  circle  of  depraAcd  (!elestials,  swarthy, 


iH 


•*-  -*  L.J.  ^  -.     ^'    r,'    1, 


"  IIITI'INd    'IIIK    IMPi:." 


hair  naked  harharians,  asseinhled  in  a  lilt  liy  den,  is  a,  <lini  oil 
lamp,  w  ith  a,  siiKtky  chimney.  ( )iie  of  the  Chinamen  has  an 
opium  pip(!  with  a,  ver\'  lar^'c  stem  (so  larev  that,  he  has  to 
distend  his  month  to  the  widest  capacity  to  take  it  in)  and  a- 
vei'y  small  a|>erlni'e  in  the  howl.  With  a  lon^';  knittini;' 
needle  he  lakes  IVoin  a  little  jar  a  wad  of  slick\'  opium 
ahoiit  the  size  of  a,  pea.  This  he  melts  o\('r  the  llanie,  and 
then,  al'ler  rolling'  it  alMHit  <»n  the  howl  ol'  the  pipe  I'or 
S(n'<'ral  minntes,  he  inserts  it  deflly  in  the  little  hole. 

Tlien  he  lies  down  at  I'nII  length,  puts  the  orilice  e<(ntain- 
iii".;' the  opium  o\cr  the  llame.  and   I'or  I  wo  lilissl'ul  nioiiienis 


20S 


oriUM   FIENDS   AND   FAN-TAN   (JAMULEHS. 


draws  in  tlio  snioko,  swallowiii"'- it  and  oxlialiim"  it  tiii-oui'h 
tlio  nose. 

Tsot  iiioro  than  tlir(30  or  at  the  most  four  wliiiTs  of  siiioko 
seoni  to  1)(!  contained  in  thc!  |)i|)(!  without  rcioach'nn',  hut 
wiicn  tii('S(!  whill's  havo  hccn  exhausted  the  ahnond  eyes 
ch)S(i  with  a  sleepy  aiiiiual-like  content,  the  |)i|)e  is  taken 
h_v  son  1(3  other  "o|>iuni  liend,'"  and  thc^samc!  sh)\v  pi'ocess  of 


J 


(II'IUM     I'lKNDS. 


liB  'w 


lit 


m  f 


])re])aration,  foUowed   hy  the  three  whill's  of  Nirvana,  fol- 
lows, and  Ko  on  around  tiie  cii'cle. 

(Janiblin^  is  another  l)esettin<^^  sin  of  .lolm  (!hinanian. 
It  is  a  weird  aiul  uncanny  si^lit  to  wat(;h  a  grou|»  of  fan  tan 
{rambh'rs  in  tiieir  darl<  den.  l''()ur  hintcirns  containing 
smoky  candles,  and  piacied  oiu?  at  each  corner  of  a  strip  of 
nuittin^^,  serve  to  illuminates  tins  sccnie.  Aroimd  this  arc 
huddled  a,  motlciy  crowd  of  slant-eyed  Monfrolijnis,  mostly 
possessing  oidy  one  <,''arnu;nt,  (iither  a  loos(s  shirt  or  a  very 


HOW    FAN-TAN    IN    I'LAYEI). 


2iV.) 


l)iig'<^y  p.'iii'  «)!'  trousers,  l)ut  vci'V  seldom  ;i  coiiibiuatioii  of 
tli('S(^  useful  liabiliiiieiits.  Kitliei'  oik;  or  iIk;  otliei-  is  full 
(ii'ess  for  a  fiin-tau  <^iuiil»ler. 

'^riie  haiikei-'s  assistaul,  or  wlialever  lie  luav  l»e  called  (I 
luust  ('(nd'ess  to  a,  sad  lack'  in  the  way  of  faii-taii  uouieii- 
clature),  takes  a  liea|iin>4'  liaii  ll'ul  of  Cliiuese  peunies  called 
cash  (little  brass  |)ieces  with  ;;  sijUare  hole  in  the  center 
and  worth  about  a,  tenth  of  a  c  'lit  apiece),  puts  them  down 
in  the  center  of  tli(>  s(|uare  of  matting',  and  places  on  top 
what  looks  like  a  bin,'  brass  |)aper-weinlit. 

Then  with  a  sharp-poinled  stick  he  |)ick's  the  pennies 
Jiway  in  little  |»iles  of  four.  I'ntil  he  takes  the  brass  weight, 
oH' of  the  cenfi'al  pile  any  one  in  the  cii'cle  is  at  liberty  to 
bet,  by  |»uttin<i,'  his  on  the  center,  corner,  or  edn('  of  a  stpiare 
of  cloth.  If  tliei'e  proves  to  be  an  even  niimbei' of  bau's  ill 
th(^  pile  of  jH'imies,  one  |)osition  wins;  if  one,  two,  or  tlireet 
inoi'c  than  itn  even  luunbei' of  fours,  souk^  othei'  position  on 
the  cloth  wins. 

After  tJK^  weiii'lil,  is  i-enioved  there  is  no  moi'C!  bettin«2'. 
Then  the  excitement  ^'I'ows  intense.  Every  s(iuattin^'  li<^'ui'(i 
leans  foi'ward  breathlessly  <»ver  the  matting'.  All  liav<!  eyes 
oidy  for  the  counlei-,  who,  with  his  |)ointed  wand,  is  pullin<^' 
away  tlu;  littli!  ([uai'tettes  of  cash,  slowly  and  deliberately 
fi'om  the  bi<^'  pile.  (Iradually  the  pile  lessens;  twenty  only 
are  left,  a.  do/eii,  eiglit,  ban',  none,  aiul  then  it  is  more  than 
likely  the  bank'er  r'akes  all  llu^  silver  and  ^old  (»f  tin; 
•gamblers  into  his  ca|)acious  till.  l''oi'  in  fairtan  as  in 
^and)lin«i,'  of  n  liio-her  decree,  the  Iambs  u'ct  tleeced  very 
syst<!matically,  and  are  only  allowed  to  win  often  em)U<.^Ii 
to  wluit  tlieii"  appetite!   f<»r  the   fatal   table. 

Victims  of  loathsome!  skin  diseases  are  freipiently  mc't 
with  in  our  walk,  and  even  those!  who  ai'e  sidleiMn^'  from  a 
niild  kind  of  leprosy,  which,  however  is  not   considered  con- 


s 

i: 
If 


!| 


i 


270 


SOME   ClIINKSE    PRESCRIPTIONS. 


tagioiis.  AVlicrc  tlicro  is  diseusc  to  l)o  comlKittcd  tliore  are,  of 
coiii'sc,  doctors  to  j»ly  their  I'cincdics ;  and.  vei'V  likely,  we 
sliall  meet  iiioi'e  tlian  one  ol'  tiiese  wise  lookiii;^-  diseiples  of 
(4aleii,    with  liiim.'!'  nails  some   six   or  ei^i'lit   inches   lonn-  — 

most  inconvenient  dibits,  one 
wonid  think,  with  which  to 
feel  the  j)ulse. 

11"  we  fall  sick  in  China 
may  W(i  he  spal'ed  the  added 
tortnre  of  a  Chinese  doctor! 
Sharks"  eyes,  powdei'ed  chick- 
ens" livers,  and  the  last  hairs 
on  a  i'at"s  tail  ai'c  some  of 
the  favorite  elements  in  their 
■///!//< /■/'/  //ni//'ci>.  I  nndersl;ind. 
An  unearthly  sci'eeching- 
and  nidioly  sawiiiu'awny  upon 
some  dreadful  strinu'ed  instru- 
ment n(,'i  fai"  oil'  j)i'oclaims  t  hat 
some  of  the  Celestials  are  niu- 
.i^^-K.  sieally  inc!ine(l  ;  and,  s  u  )■  e 
enough,  we  soon  stuml)le  uj)or 
a  <4'roii])  suri'oundin^'  the  nn'n- 
sti'el,  who  is  |)layin<^'  upon  an 
instrument  tliat  resembles  a  doid)le  head<'<l  hammer  with  two 
strin,<:,s  sti'ctched   from  the  head  to  the  handle. 

The  head  of  the  hammer  is  nnide  of  parchment,  and  fi'om 
this  und<'velo|)ed  kind  of  a  fiddle  lie  tortures  such  awful 
music  as  was  never  heai'd  on  sea  oi'  laial.  If  the  insti'u- 
menlal  part  of  the  concert  is  hideous,  the  vocal  accomj)ani- 
ment  is  still  more  appalling.  It  cannot  Ik;  re])resented  in 
English  chai'acters,  hut  a  faint  attemjjt  is  something  as 
follows:  ••  Kyii,   k-yi.  kyiii.  yi,  ya."'     Imagine  all  the  tom- 


-'-c . 


A   LEPrat   (UUL   OF    SlIANdllAr. 


<l 


STREET   SCENES   IN'   SHANGHAI. 


271 


cats  you  ever  licai'd  jxxilini;'  tlx'ii'  issues  t(»  iiuikc  iii^lit 
liidcous  t'i'oiii  a  lU'itilihor's  I'oof.  and  you  will  have  sonu' 
idi.'a  of  tiic  |»i'()loni:c(l  and  awful  calcrwaulin;^'  which  .lolin 
(Jliiuainan  calls  "music."" 

It  is  ditlicult  to  kiU)W  when  to  slop  in  our  walk  or  in  oui- 
dcscri[)li(jn  (^f  it.     The  sli'ccts  ijo  on  foi-  miles  and  miles;  one 


A  ,11  vi.Mi.i;  (  iiiM;si;  (iii<iii:sri{.\. 


sti'(>et  succeeds  anothei'  in  intei'minalde  succession  ;  lish 
dealei's  and  ^I'cen  ^^'I'ocers  ;  ci'ockei'y  stores  ami  wood  carv- 
ers; (|uilt  makers  i  I'oi'  (juilt  makini:'  is  a  ^-reat  industry  in 
Shanghai);  undei'takers,  with  piles  of  hu^'c,  clumsy  collins 
in  their  warehouse;  these,  to  say  nothinii'  of  ivstaurants  and 
harher  shops,  and  other  li'ades  and  callin<.is,  would  iill  this 
volume,  should  I  attempt  to  descrihe  a  Chinese  street  as  1 
have  seen  it. 


37^ 


HUMAN   BEASTS    OF    lUHOEN. 


As  \v(>  nvr  <»l)lin(.(|  resolutely  t(j  turn  our  luces  liouiewunl 
IVom  oui-  walk  in  the  streets  when  (hitv  culls  to  othei-  thiucrs 
so   I    must  resolutely    turn   uiy   uttention    and    yours,   (lour 
reader,  to  other  thing's  than  theses   wvy  conmiouplace,  hut 
very  interesliiin-,  streets  ol'  Shan^'hai. 

Let  us  visit  tin;  counti-y  suburbs  of  this  great  city,  aiul 
see  what  odd  si<i-lits  are  visible  there.  The  (ii'st  cause  for 
wouderiueut  is,  pei'haps,  the  iminense  loads  which  tli<i 
coolies  bear.  Scores  of  them  an,'  comino'  to  market  this 
early  morning  with  a  long  i)ole  ovoi-  their  shoiddci's,  from 
each  end  of  which  is  sus[)(!nded  a  great  basket  of  prodm-e. 

It  is  sui-|)i-ising  what  ti-emendous  loads  these;  humun 
beasts  of  burden  can  stagger  undei-.  Many  a,  time;  liav(!  1 
seen  a  cool i(;  with  a  basket  of  green  vegetables  holding  not 
less  than  three  bushels,  or  more  than  an  ordinary  Ih.ur 
barrel,  suspended  fi'(nn  each  end  of  his  shoulder  pole. 
Somethnes  his  basket  contains  eggs,  which  are  scarce! v  less 
heavy.  Let  my  readers  thud<  of  raising  two  bari'cls  of  eggs 
to  their  shoulders  and  trotting  off  with  them  at  a,  lively 
pace  and  they  will  have  sonu;  idea,  of  the  burdens  im])osed 
on  these  two-1  ('<>•• '•ed  horses. 

Hut  the  most  unj)leasant  and  ubi(juitous  of  all  are  the 
men  carrying  licpiid  nianur(\  Whole  jn-ocessions  of  these 
human  night-carts  do  we  meet  with  theii*  two  odoriferous 
buckets,  holding  neai'ly  a  barrel  each,  balanced  on  brawny 
slioulders.  AVo  need  not  complain,  lH;w(!ver,  of  th(3  })assing 
whitr,  if  the  coolies  can  spend  their  lives  amid  such  stenches, 
and  we  are  the  hiss  disj)osed  to  complain  when  we  renuMuber 
that  it  is  owing  to  this  careful  fertilizing  and  minute  cultiva- 
tion of  th<'  soil  that  the  liundr(;ds  of  millions  of  Chimi  an; 
ke[)t  on  tlie  existence  side  of  tlie  starvation  point. 

At  this  time  of  year  (late  JJecendjer)  cver^'tliing  in  an 
agricultural  line  is  at  its  worst,  and  Ave  must  make  allow- 


chinesp:  farms  and  kak.mp:rs. 


ir;j 


ances  for  tlio  bleakness  of  the  seuson,  foi'  lliere  is  "an  cji^ci' 
and  a  nii)[)in<^'  air"  in  Siiangiiai  as  well  as  in  Vermont  and 
JVIielii^^aii  at  this  tini(!  of  y(!ar.  TIk;  ti'avelef.  coinin;;'  from 
.Japan,  is  struck  by  tlu^  fact  that  the  (niltivation  of  llie  soil  is 
iiiMch  l(;ss  careful  and  systematic  in  China  than  in  the 
^likado's  em|)ii-e.  In  -lapan  I'Vi^ry  s(|uai'e  iiu-h  is  utilized, 
the  furrows  art;  as  strai;L'ht  as  inathennitical  precision  can 
make  them;  (iveiy  corner  ;ind  ednin^-  is  ciii'efully  trimmed 
and  s(|uared,  until  tli((  whole  country  loiA's  like  c^ne  yreat, 
carefully-tended,  kitchen  garden. 

Ah(jut  Shanghai,  how(;vei',  there;  is  moi'e  slovenliness 
visible;,  less  care;  in  litth;  thing's,  more;  I'iigged  edges  and 
few<;r  kitcluin-garden  eifects.  iS'evertheless,  tin;  average 
Chinaman,  in  s[)it(;  of  the  \;\v\<.  of  pictures(|uen(!ss  in  his 
fields,  is  a  famous  farmer-,  and  if  Horace  (ii'(!eley's  dictum  is 
true,  and  if  that  man  desei'ves  well  of  the  world  who  undoes 
two  blades  of  gi'ass  grow  where  only  one  gi'ew  before,  then 
John  (Miinaiuan  should  ]iave  a  high  meed  of  praise. 

lie  has  learn(Ml  to  perfection  the  system  of  rotation  of 
crops,  and  in  many  places,  as  I  have  before  remarked,  he 
W(mld  be  ashanuid  not  U)  g(;t  thi'(,'e  if  not  four  crops  out  of 
the  soil  every  twcslve  months,  ^^ol■eover,  if  he  cannot  get 
one  crop  he  will  take;  another ;  he  is  not  particular  so  hjiig 
as  it  brings  ric*;  to  his  chop-sticks. 

Look  over  yonder  this  frosty    Decendjer  morning,  and 

you   will  see  twenty   men    wading  out  into  a  shallow  pond 

which  is  covered  with  ice  of  the  thickness  of  window  glass. 

Th(;y  seem  to  be  whipping  the  sui-f^cc;  of  the  pond  with  long 

bamboo  poles  ;ind  then  I'aking  something  towai'd   (hem  with 

long  band)oo  I'akes.      I''or  a  time  these  strange  ant ics  puzzle 

us.     The  men  cannot  he  lishing,  neithei-  can  they  be  thrash 

ing  the  surface  of  the  jtoiid   for  fun.     Chinamen  do  not  take 

their  si)ort  in  any  such  athletic  wav.     They  need  all  their 
17  .J 


i 


t 


2U 


TIlIMrrV   JOHN. 


4  % 


iinisc'lo  iind  cncvii'V  for  tin'  stern  riMtlitics  of  life,  and  liavc  no 
supt'i'lliums  vital  cnci'tiics  to  expend  on  (»ut-dooi' ganu's. 

What,  tlicn.  can  tlu'v  Ix'  doin^'^  A  nearer  inspection  re- 
solves the  invsterv  and  sliows  that  thev  ai'e  <''athei'in<''one  of 
tiieir  yearly  crops  —  the  ice  harvest.  The  ice  dealers  of  the 
Kennehecand  the  J*enol)scot  wonld  laiiuii  at  the  vei'v  idea  of 
such  ice  ii'atherint''.  AVhat  I  thev  wonld  sav,  store  such  ten- 
uous  coldness  as  that  I  Harvest  ice  no  thicker  than  your 
lln^'ernaill  You  might  as  well  scra|>(^  the  I'iine  off  of  the 
window  pane  foi"  next  summer's  C(;nsumption  or  hi'ush  the 
lujiir  frost  from  the  grass  for  use  next  .Iidy. 

J)Ut  John  Chinaman  knows  what  he  is  about,  and,  not 
deterred  by  any  contemptuous  remarks  which  his  visitoi's  may 
make,  he  goes  right  on  thrashing  the  thinly-coated  "water 
with  his  lon<j'  i)iimboos,  raking-  his  brittle  hai'vest  together, 
and  storing  it  in  gi'(>at  straw-thatched  ice  houses.  Then  he 
salts  it  all  down,  litei'ally.  not  figuratively,  and  thus  freezes 
it  aiunv  into  a  solid  compact  mass  ;  and,  though  his  ice  is  not 
good  tor  drinking  ])ui'i)oses,  he  has  a  ])roduct  that  answers 
very  well  for  refrig(M'ating  uses,  and  which  lasts  far  into  the 
long  hot  months  of  the  coming  summer. 

But  this  is  only  one  crop  that  the  thrifty  Celestial  ob- 
tains from  the  same  ])atch  of  soil,  for  before  he  flooded  it 
with  water  for  his  ice  cro}),  he  had  taken  a  harvest  of  rice 
and  one  of  vegetables,  and  very  likely  one  of  fish,  from  the 
same  two-acre  liehL 

''  A  fish  cro])  from  a  temporary  jiond  which  only  covers 
the  soil  for  a  (]uarter  part  of  the  year,"  you  say  ;  "  why,  it 
is  impossible ! "  Not  at  all,  my  rea<ler,  and  this  is  the  way 
it  is  done.  The  ova  are  liatched  in  a  sluggish  stream  or 
ditch  near  by,  and  when  the  fish  have  attained  an  inch  or 
two  in  length,  the  field  is  flooded  and  the  small  fry  are 
turned  loose  into  it  to  feed  as  l)est  they  may  in  the  sub- 


CANNY    FISHERMEN. 


876 


s 
It 


merged  rice  stubble.  The  fast-growiiifj  fish  soon  attiiin  an 
eatal)le  size  (about  six  inches  in  length)  and  the  canny  China- 
man may  then  be  seen  wading  into  the  wat(M^  which  comes 
hairway  to  liis  knees,  armed  with  a  lish  i)oie  and  a  imttom- 
less  bamlxx)  basket  with  a  hole  in  the  toj). 

But  the  lish  pole  is  not  for  the  i)ur|)(jse  of  catching  fish, 
as  might  naturally  be  supfjosed,  at  least,  not  in  the  ordinary 
way,  nor  is  the  basket  to  hold  the  Jinny  captives,  since  it  is 
open  at  both  ends.  l>iit  this  is  the  j/ux/u.s  <>2><i'(ni(ll.  With 
his  pole  he  thrashes  the  water,  and  when  he  sees  a  sudden 
gleam  and  something  dart  into  the  black  mud,  he  quickly 
caps  the  spot  with  his  bottondess  basket,  and  ])utting  his 
hand  through  the  hole  in  the  top,  he  gro])es  around  in  the 
mud  until  he  finds  the  imprisoned  fish.  Tliis  lie  transfers  to 
another  basket  which  is  slung  on  his  back,  and  then  goes  on 
thrashing  the  mud  and  water  until  he  sees  once  uu)i'e  the 
silver  gleam  of  a  fish  darting  into  the  mud. 

It  will  be  strange  if,  on  this  walk  throuo'li  Shano'hai's 
streets  and  subnri)s,  we  do  not  see  at  least  one  of  the  sad 
processions  which,  in  every  part  of  the  world,  tell  the  old,  old 
story  of  mortality  ami  decay.  I  saw  many  of  these  funeral 
corteges  in  China,  but  none  that  interested  me  more  than 
one  I  met  in  Shanghai. 

A  wealthy  resident  had  lost  his  only  daughter,  and  he 
was  determined  to  show  her  every  token  of  bai'baric  honor. 
He  Avas  evidently  intent  on  having  Avhat  our  Hibernian 
friends  Avould  call  "  an  iligint  funeral."  Long  b(;fore  the 
mourners  came  out  of  the  house  were  the  ]^re])arations  begun, 
and  bearer  after  bearer  arrived,  each  bringing  some  contri- 
bution to  the  solemn  occasion.  First  came  two  coolies  carry- 
ing the  inevitable  roast  pig,  varnished  and  crisp  and  brown, 
his  ears  and  tail  decorated  with  red  and  white  and  silver  em- 
blems.    Then  came  two  others  bearing  a  dressed  kid,  un- 


276 


A    CHINKSK    I'lNKKAI.. 


cookod  and  stjindin*,'  in  ii  inost  patliclic;  attitude  with  liis 
Tiioiitli  ojum  and  lusad  lian<^in<j;(l()\vii  to  liisixnccs.  Foilouin*^- 
the  boarors  (>r  tlu;  kid  wore  others  caiTying  litth;  phitlornis 
cov(M'(!d  with  rico,  V('<,n'tal)h's,  and  swcctirHiats,  whih'  on  the 
sweets  W(M'<!  toy  hutterllies  and  (h-a/^oii  flics,  ciiihliMnalie  oC 
tlie  soul  wiiich  had  taken  its  lli«^ht. 

Tlusn  othef  |)ahin(|iiitis  canu^  upon  tlu;  scene.  Tn  otie  wer(! 
two  hn<,n!  paper  images  whicli  were  to  he  hiirned  at  th(^ 
grave,  and  tlirough  whoso  ascending  smoke;  the  soul  might 
lind  its  way  ai)ov(;  this  sordid,  cloudy  world.  Another  palun- 
(piin  eontaimid  the;  ancestral  tahhits;  and  still  another,  a 
great  string  of  mock  money,  made  of  paper  in  ilic  form  of  gold 
and  silv(!r  ingots  for  the  spirit's  us<;.  These,  I  was  told,  were 
to  l)(!  burned  to  propitiate  the  gods,  and  that  the  deceased 
might  have  some  chang(!  for  her  long  Journey.  At  last,  aftcT 
much  delay,  the  colfin,  ])r(!ce(l(!d  by  six  Buddhist  pri(ists  in 
flaming  yc'llow  robes,  was  brought  out  of  the;  houseof  mourn- 
ing. It  was  (juite  ditfer(;nt  from  our  cotlins  oi'  caskets,  and 
tapered  gradually  from  the;  head  to  tin;  fe{;t,  looking  not  un- 
like the  nuimmy  cask<!ts  which  one  sees  in  the  British  museum. 
Over  the  colIin  a,  bi'illiaiit  cano])y  in  i-ed  and  gold  cloth  was 
then  i'ais(!d,  and  on  IIk;  cano])y  a  papei'  stoi'k  at  least  three 
feet  in  height,  was  fasti^ni'd.  (Isually,  a  paj)er  cock  has  this 
])ost  of  honor,  \  am  told,  but  on  this  occasion  it  was  an  unmis- 
takable I ile-si/e  stoi'k.  Then  camciout  the  family  fri(;n(ls,and 
a  truly  pitiabh;  sight  liny  presented,  for  gri(!f  is  tin;  same  in 
all  lands.  'I'lie  grotes(|ueness  of  the;  suri'oundings  could  mjt 
altogeth(;r  disguise;  the  soi-row,  though  of  course,  1  am  not 
]>r(;pai-e(l  to  say  that  the  (excessive  weeping  and  wailing  and 
agoni/,e<l  outcries  were;  all  of  geiiuiiU!  grief.  But  who  will 
dare  sav  that  thev  were  not  I 

The  fathe)'  of  the  damsel  came  first,  almost  bent  to  the 
ground  by  his  soi'row,  while  on  eithei-  side;  Ik;  was  suj)[)orted 


t 


STKAN(;i;    ITNKUAL    (  KKKMONIKS. 


t)^ 


:? 


(I 
11- 

n. 

IS 

■() 
is 
s- 
lul 
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.1 
)t 
(1 


lie. 

id 


hy  a  itiutc,  wlio  was  iirriiy<'<l,  liko  tli(!  f'iitlu'i",  in  sackclotli 
and  wliitd  linen.  Then  niuw.  tin;  niotlicr  likcwisi^  sii|)|»()rt('(l, 
followi'd  hy  tlic  ln'otlici's  ail  bent  d()id)l(!  witli  tlicii"  sorrow, 
^i'oiinin«^  und  WiH'pin;^'  and  wi'in<;'in^- llirii-  luinds.  'riiiis  tlio 
pitiful  |)F'of;(ission  moved  uloii;,'',  the  roast  pi;^''  and  tlic!  un- 
booked kid,  the  ve;^(!tal)les  iind  the  swec^tmeats,  the  pap(!r 
iina<^es  and  tlu!  Ilesh-and-hlood  mourners,  tiie  mock  money 
and  the  narrow  hoiisf;  with  its  lonely  o(;(;upant,  surmounted 
by  th(i  many-colored  ))apei'  stork;  all  moved  slowly  <ni, 
followtid  by  tin;  mor(^  distant  mournei's  in  jini'ikishas. 

JIow  unsp(!akably  sad  is  such  a  si^ht!  Mortality  un- 
chceJHid  by  any  ti'U(;  ho))c  of  immoi'tality  I  Death  iri-adiated 
by  no  i'casonal)le  assui'anc((  of  lil'e!  T\n'  ^i-avc;  with  the 
stone  still  at  its  dismal  cntr;rnce,  not  yet  rolled  away. 

No  wondoi',  ()  lathcir  and  moth(?r,  that  yjs  ai'e  bow(!d 
<lown  with  ^'rier  <'ven  to  tlu;  erouiid!  No  wonder  that  yo 
weep  and  wail  as  those  without  ho|)e  ! 

At  the  ^rav(!  tln^  j)ap(!r  ima«^-es  and  the  mo(;k  money  arc 
l)urned,  and  the  pajHU'  stork  i'(!(luced  to  ashes.  Some  j)or- 
tions  of  the  food  are  hilt  at  the  g'i'ave  foi*  the  dead  to  feed 
U])on,  but  most  of  it  is  oaten  by  the  survivors,  who  i-enuirk 
as  th(!y  masticate  the  g-enerous  ])rovisions,  "  I  low  stran<^(!  it 
is  that  this  poi'k  has  no  taste!"  "How  singular  that  the 
si)irits  should  have  taken  all  the  goodness  out  of  tlu.'se  veg(i- 
tables  !  "  "The  departed  have  evidently  been  hcilping  them- 
.selves  to  these  swe(;ts,  for  thcA'c,  is  no  tast(!  left  in  them." 

lIow(!ver,  in  spit(!  of  the  assumed  tastcjlessness  of  the 
funeral  baked  nu;ats,  which  is  always  r(!mark(Ml  u|)on,  the 
mourn(;rs  manages  to  make  a  vety  good  meal  upon  the  ci-isp 
loast  pork  and  toothsome  confections.  Oftentimes  the 
bodies  of  the  dead  are  kej)t  for  months,  hei-metically  seakid, 
in  the  house  of  the  r(»!atives,  and  in  thcs  neighboi'hood  of 
fcJhanghai  the  body  is  always  bui'ied  o>dy  wheris  tli<!  pi'iests 


^ 

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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-S) 


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2.0 


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I    i 


278 


THE  BABY   TOWERS   OF  SHANGHAI. 


V 


indicate.  There  seem  to  be  no  cemeteries  set  apart  for  the 
dead,  but  the  whole  vicinity  of  Shanghai  is  one  vast  grave- 
yard. 

On  this  walk  into  the  country,  which  Ave  have  been 
taking  together  this  December  morning,  we  have  seen  scores 
and  hundreds  of  little  mounds  unmarked  except  by  a  slight 
swell  in  the  uneven  soil,  each  of  which  tells  where  many 
bodies  have  been  deposited.  Scores  of  coffins,  too,  are  seen, 
either  carelessly  set  down  by  the  roadside,  or  half  buried 
under  a  few  spadesfull  of  soil  in  the  fields  near  by. 

But  the  most  pathetic  sight  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Shanghai  is  the  baby  towers,  into  which  are  unceremo- 
niously thrust  the  bodies  of  children  who  die  before  they 
have  attained  their  first  birthday.  According  to  the  Chinese 
idea  they  have  no  souls  before  they  cut  their  first  teeth.  It 
matters  little,  therefore,  what  becomes  of  these  tiny,  soul- 
less Avaifs,  and  so  they  are  thrown,  almost  before  the  life  is 
out  of  their  little  bodies,  into  these  dismal,  eyeless  towers, 
which  liere  and  there  dot  the  horizon.  When  the  tower  is 
filled  to  the  roof,  the  little  bones  are  shoveled  out  as  uncere- 
moniously as  they  were  thrown  in,  and  another  lot  of  infant 
bodies  fill  the  horrid  cavity. 

What  else  could  be  expected  with  Chinese  views  of 
infant  life?  What  respect  is  due  a  soulless  infant?  How 
different  this  treatment  from  that  of  Ilim  Avho  took  little 
children  up  in  his  arms  and  blessed  them,  who  said :  "  Suffer 
the  little  children  to  come  unto  me,  and  forbid  them  not,  for 
of  such  is  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven." 


CIIAPTEK  XV. 

A  JOURNEY  THROUGH  TROPIC  SEAS. 

A  Delightful  Voyage  —  Liquid  Fire  —  The  Sacred  White  Ox  —  The  Gharri 
—  The  "  L  Road  "  and  the  Bullock  Bandy  —  Fan  Palms  of  Singapore  — 
A  Tree  that  Casts  no  Shadow  — How  the  Bandy  Driver  Stimulates  his 
Steeds  —  An  Effective  Threat  — Chewing  a  Bullock's  Tail  to  make 
him  go  —  Picturesque  Wharf  Venders — "  Papa  Dive  " —  Scrambling  for 
Nickels  —  A  Walk  in  Penang  —  Mangosteens  and  Jack-fruit  —  Assa- 
fa'tida  and  Onions — The  Indian  Juggler  —  A  Man  with  a  Gizzard  — 
The  MaMgo  Tree  Trick  and  the  Girl  in  the  Basket  — The  Last  of  the 
Chinaman  —  Ceylon's  Spicy  Breezes  —  The  Waggish  Captain's  Joke  — 
The  Odors  of  Colombo  —  A  Horrible  Combination  —  The  Catamaran  — 
The  Two  Instincts  of  the  Singhalese — Persistent  Shopkeepers  —  Be- 
sieged by  Beggars  —  Baby  Merchants  and  their  Wares  —  The  Cinna- 
mon Gardens  —  An  Ancient  Turtle  —  Brawny  Barbarism  and  Miss 
Nancy  ism. 


^HE  journey  from  Ilong  Kong  to 
Colombo  occupies  about  tliirteen 
days  over  tropic  seas.  The  first 
few  days  from  Ilong  Kong,  with 
the  northwest  monsoon  blowing 
half  a  gale,  are  apt  to  be  rather 
uncomfortable  for  lovers  of 
terra  firm  a;  but,  as  we  travel 
southward,  the  weather  grows 
gentler,  the  sea  grows  smoother, 
and  before  we  reach  Singapore 
we  vote  this  journey  to  be  one  of 
the  most  delightful  on  any  ocean.  Tliere  are  usually  few 
signs  of  life  at  sea,  but  on  this  voyage  flying  fish  flit  from 
wavelet  to  wavelet,  and  at  night  the  j)iio])horescent  animal- 

cula  turn  all  the  surrounding  ocean  into  waves  of  licjuid  fire 

■     (279) 


280 


THE   SACRED   WHITE   OX   OF  INDIA. 


as  our  good  ship  i)lows  its  way  through  this  brilliant  but 
harmless  flame. 

Occasionally  a  passing  steamer  causes  all  the  passengers 
to  unstrap  their  field  glasses  and  level  them  at  the  distant 
stranger.  Occasionally,  also,  a  helpless  sailing  vessel  is  seen 
in  the  distance,  in  a  dead  calm,  with  flapping  sails  and 
drooping  pennant ;  its  crew  devoutly  wishing,  doubtless,  for 
the  aid  of  steam,  which  carries  us  so  swiftly  along 

Singapore,  in  the  Straits  Settlements,  is  the  first  stopping 
place  for  steamers  bound  for  India,  and  here  we  have  our 


SACRED   WHITE   OXEN. 


introduction  to  Indian  life.  Here  for  the  first  time  we  see 
the  typical  white  oxen  with  humps  on  their  backs,  just 
behind  their  necks,  and  with  gaily  painted  horns,  one  red 
and  one  blue ;  a  sight  wlrich  becomes  very  familiar  after  a 
few  days  in  India,  for  the  ox  is  not  only  sacred  in  this  land, 
but  is  also  the  indispensable  beast  of  burden.  Here,  too,  we 
are  first  introduced  to  the  universal  Indian  vehicle,  the 
ghart'L 

Nothing  is  more  indicative  of  the  character  of  a  people 
than  the  vehicles  in  which  they  ride.  We  are  tempted  to 
perpetrate  a  second-hand  aphorism  to  the  effect  that  if  you 
will  show  us  the  carriages  in  which  a  people  ride  we  will  tell 


A  TREE  THAT   CASTS   NO   SHADOW, 


^81 


you  the  character  of  the  people  who  ride  in  them.  The  "  L 
road"  and  electric  street  car  are  as  typical  of  the  hurrying, 
impatient  American  cliaracter  as  the  ram-shackle  bullock 
bandy  is  of  the  careless,  easy,  happy-go-lucky  Hindu  of 
Southern  India. 

In  Japan  the  universal  jinrikishai  is  always  with  us  at 
every  railway  station  and  in  almost  every  country  village 
througliout  the  empire.  In  Hong  Kong  the  sedan  chair 
bears  the  traveler  aloft  above  the  heads  of  the  flocking 
throng.  In  Shanghai  the  wheelbarrow,  with  its  large  cen- 
tral wheel  and  its  seat  on  either  side  for  two  persons,  shows 
the  highest  aspiration  of  the  average  Chinaman,  so  far  as 
locomotion  goes.  But  in  Singapore  and  throughout  India, 
the  gharri  is  the  common  carriage  for  the  better  classes.  It 
is  not  a  bad  one  either,  for  a  hot  country,  with  its  double 
roof,  and  latticed,  movable  blinds  on  all  sides,  which  admit 
the  air  and  exclude  the  sun.  It  seems  to  be,  on  the  whole, 
the  best  public  carriage  that  can  be  devised. 

In  Singapore,  however,  jinrikishas  are  also  used  and  are 
most  gorgeously  painted  Avith  huge  gold  Chinese  figures  on 
their  broad  backs. 

The  most  interesting  drive  is  to  the  Botanical  Gardens, 
which  are  extensive  and  well  worth  visiting,  especially  for 
their  beautiful  fan  palms,  whose  leaves  radiate  from  a  com- 
mon center,  forming  a  huge  representation  of  our  common 
palm-leaf  fan,  with  a  great  trunk  for  the  handle  and  the 
branching  leaves  for  the  fan.  It  would  take  a  giant,  to 
be  sure,  to  wield  such  a  fan,  but  the  representation  is  conv 
plete  on  a  colossal  scale. 

When  these  palms  are  planted  at  different  angles  they 
form  a  very  picturesque  addition  to  the  landscape  of  a 
garden.  Looked  at  edgewise  the  tree  is  almost  as  thin  as  a 
sheet  of  paper  and  can  hardly  cast  a  shadow  in  the  brightest 


282 


CHEWING  A  bullock's  TAIL. 


sunlight,  but  looked  at  from  the  front  or  from  behind,  the 
huge  spreading  fan  presents  a  perfect  shield  to  all  within  its 
shade. 

Here,  in  Singapore,  too,  we  see  the  great  straw-thatched 
bandy  with  patient  bullocks  hitched  to  it;  and  in  this 
bandy,  when  gharris  Avere  not  to  be  had,  we  have  been  more 
than  once  glad  to  ride,  shielded  as  we  were  from  the  hot 
Indian  sun,  and  getting  over  the  road,  not  at  lightning 


THE   BULLOCK  CART. 


speed,  but  at  the  rate  of  three  or  four  miles  an  hour,  which 
is  very  good  trotting  for  these  little  animals. 

The  bandy  driver  usually  stimulates  the  speed  of  his 
bullocks  not  only  by  judicious  application  of  a  short  stick, 
but  more  often  by  twisting  their  tails,  in  a  way  that  seemed 
to  us  most  cruel  and  inhuman ;  Avhile  one  driver,  who  could 
not  get  sufficient  speed  out  of  his  bovine  steeds,  in  his  de- 
spair actually  grasped  the  tail  of  one  of  them  in  his  teeth 
and  began  to  chew  it  vigorously  as  "a  discourager  of  hes- 
itancy" on  the  road.  We  were  obliged  more  than  once 
to  threaten  our  bandy-drivers  and  "gharriwallahs"  with  the 
Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Animals,  unless 
they  desisted  from  their  practices. 


AT  THE   WHARF  AT   SINGAPORE. 


283 


Whether  our  threats  were  understood  or  not,  or  whether 
"the  society  with  the  long  name"  is  known  in  Singapore  I 
am  not  sure,  but  in  every  case  our  vigorous  protest  seemed 
to  have  its  desired  effect,  and  the  poor  animals  trotted  along 
without  so  much  applied  stimulus  from  the  outside. 

But  more  interesting  to  us  than  the  busy  streets  of  Singa- 
pore with  their  squalid  inhabitants,  or  even  beautiful  botan- 
ical gardens,  were  the  crowds  of  young  adventurers  that 
swarmed  to  the  wharf  with  various  wares  and  temptations 
for  our  pocketbooks. 

Here  were  boats  loaded  with  most  curious  and  beautiful 
shells,  lovely  nautilus  shells,  huge,  flat,  pearly  mussel  shells 
(so  thin  it  seemed  impossible  for  any  living  animal  to  find  a 
home  between  the  two  discs),  crinkly,  curly,  spiral  shells  of 
every  hue  and  possible  curve.  From  other  boats  great 
branches  of  coral,  red,  white,  and  pink,  tempted  the  pur- 
chaser. Still  other  men,  with  gaudy  turbans  and  brilliant 
cloths  round  their  waists,  offered  for  sale  parrots  of  even 
more  gaudy  plumage  than  themselves ;  while  others  came 
down  to  the  wharf  with  great  baskets  of  delicious  pine- 
apples, for  the  straits  are  the  very  home  of  the  "  pine,"  and 
nowhere  else  is  it  found  of  finer  flavor  or  of  larger  size. 

In  the  water  about  the  steamer  were  scores  of  naked 
boys  ready  to  dive  for  a  piece  of  money  which  the  amused 
traveler  might  throw  them.  Every  grown-up  stranger  to 
them  is  either  "  papa  "  or  "  mamma,"  according  to  the  sex  of 
the  person  addressed ;  while  all  European  boys  are  yclept 
"  Charlie  "  by  them,  however  they  were  christened  by  their 
parents.  So,  as  we  three  pilgrims  looked  over  the  side  of 
the  vessel,  scores  of  vigorous  voices  would  cry  out,  "  Papa 
dive,"  "Papa  dive,"  "Mamma  dive,"  "Mamma  dive," 
"  Charlie  dive,"  "  Charlie  dive."  This  did  not  mean  that 
the  pilgrims  should  take  headers  into  the  water,  as  the  im- 


284 


A   SCRAMBLE  UNDER   WATER. 


perative  mood  scemod  to  indicate,  ]jut  that  these  brown- 
skinned  natives  in  tiie  boats  wouhl  (exhibit  tlieir  powers  if 
only  the  inducement  of  a  live-cent  bit  was  thrown  into  the 
water.  As  at  Honolulu  and  other  places  Avhere  we  liave 
watched  the  ])erformance,  when  the  little  silver  piece  began 
to  flutter  down  beneath  the  waves,  what  a  commotion  there 
was  among  the  twenty  ])oats!  Twice  twenty  sujjple,  clean- 
limbed little  fellows  would  jump  into  the  water,  their  wrig- 
gling toes  and  the  white  soles  of  their  feet  would  appeal-  for 
a  moment  above  the  waves,  Avhile  underneath  the  disturbed 
waters  would  ])rove  that  they  were  grabbing  and  scrambling 
after  the  silver  bit.  Soon  one  brown  hand  would  appear 
above  the  surface  followed  by  another  and  another,  until 
gradually  the  Avhole  up))er  surface  was  brown  with  hands 
and  heads,  and,  pufHng  and  blowing,  the  whole  little  regiment 
of  divers  would  come  bobbing  to  the  toj) ;  the  strongest  and 
most  expert  usually  having  the  silver  piece  safely  tucked 
away  in  his  clieek. 

In  the  meantime,  their  little  dug-out  canoes  would,  very 
likely,  float  off  to  quite  a  distance,  some  of  them  Avould  fill 
with  water,  others  Avould  (lisa])pcar  in  different  directions ; 
but  they  would  soon  collect  their  pro[)erty,  get  into  their 
several  canoes,  bale  them  out  with  a  (juick,  dexterous  motion 
of  the  foot,  which  shoveled  out  sutticient  water  to  keep 
them  from  sinking,  and  then  their  occupants  were  ready  for 
another  dive,  if  "  Papa,"  or  "  Mamma,"  or  "  (jharlie  "  would 
only  favor  them  with  a  five-cent  ])iece. 

Two  days  after  leaving  Singai)ore  we  reached  Penang, 
and  as  we  looked  out  of  our  cal)in  j)orthole  early  in  the 
morning,  we  found  our  stearujr  at  anchor  and  surrounded  by 
gaily  ])ainted  sam])ans  ;  red  and  white  and  blue  of  the  most 
vivid  hues  were  the  jirevailing  colors, 

"Mahommed  Baboo"  had  his  name  painted  in  flaring 


A   MOST   HORRIBLE  COMBINATION. 


285 


letters  on  one  of  these  hi-illiunt  bouts,  juid  for  the  sake  of  his 
nume,  perhaps,  more  than  for  any  otlier  reason  (it  sounded 
so  distinctly  Oriental),  wo  chose  his  sampan  and  were  rowed 
asiiore  for  the  modest  sum  of  liv(?  cents  each. 

Penang  is  an  unintei'estin^-  place,  and  its  few  sights 
scarcely  pay  for  the  necessary  walk  in  the  liot  sun.  Such 
gorj^eous  costumes  as  one  here  sees,  such  Oriental  disrej^ard 
of  any  costume  at  all,  would  he  startlin<^  in  any  other  })ort 
of  the  world,  though  here  these  scanty  jrarments  seem  by 
no  means  so  inappro[)riate  as  in  cooler  latitudes. 

The  fruit  stores  are  filled  with  strange  ])roducts  which 
look  very  odd  to  our  unaccustomed  eyes.  AV^e  induIgiHl  in 
some  of  them,  and  found,  that  while  a  few  were  delicious, 
others  re(|uired  a  long  course  of  education  in  order  to  a))pre- 
ciate  them.  The  numgosteen,  for  instance,  a  fruit  about  the 
si/e  of  an  apple,  with  a  dull,  reddish  color,  is  most  spicy  and 
fragrant  and  refreshing.  One  never  is  obliged  to  learn  to 
like  tiie  mangosteen. 

The  jack  fruit,  on  the  other  hand,  which  our  hxpiacious 
guide  persuaded  us  to  buy,  asserting  that  it  was  most  deli- 
cious, proved  to  be  a  most  horrible  combination  of  bad  onions 
and  assafuitida.  After  hanging  a  specimen  of  this  fruit  up 
in  our  stateroom  for  an  hour  of  two,  the  cabin  became 
utterly  uninhabitable  for  several  hours,  until  it  had  been 
fumigated  and  opened  in  all  directions  to  the  breezes  of 
heaven.  We  are  told  by  oUl  inhabitants  of  the  countiy, 
however,  that  our  guide  was  not  far  wrong,  that  the  jack- 
fruit  is  really  by  no  means  so  bad  as  its  odor  indicates. 
However,  we  wei'e  satisfied  with  what  one  of  our  senses  told 
us  concerning  it,  and  we  did  not  attempt  to  iind  out  whether 
it  tjisted  as  badly  as  it  smelled. 

Here  in  Penjing,  too,  we  saw  our  first  Indian  juggler. 
He  came  aboard  the  ship  while  she  was  lying  at  anchor,  and 


280 


THE  UNCANNY  INDIAN  JUG(iLEK. 


performed  all  his  stock  of  tricks,  which  are  decidedly  inter- 
esting when  lii'st  viewed,  but  which  became  somewhat  stale 
when,  one  after  another,  a  dozen  jngnl(>rs  did  exactly  the 
same  tricks  in  tiie  same  way  ;  each  one  talkin<^  cheap-jack 
patter  to  attract  or  distract  the  attention  of  tiie  s])ectators. 

In  spite,  however,  of  the  sameness  of  his  tricks,  the 
Indian  juj^^g-ler  is  a  very  clever  fellow.  He  will  cause  a  little 
l)ebble  to  make  its  way  iind(M'  a  bi'ass  cup,  without  hands, 
when  he  is  a])parently  six  feet  away,  and  when  the  spectator 
is  willing  to  take  his  oath  that  the  cu])  is  absolutely  empty. 
He  will  })ick  another  ])ebble  out  of  your  shoe  or  a  large  stone 
out  of  your  pocket,  though  you  are  very  confident  you  are 
not  cari'ying  a  small  (juarij'  about  your  ])ei'son.  Jle  will 
show  you  an  innocent  little  ball  of  yarn  in  his  hands,  as  big 
as  a  large  bullet,  and  after  speaking  to  the  ball  for  a  moment, 
it  will  be  transformed  into  a  little  paroquet,  which  opens  its 
bill  and  squeaks  and  makes  a  "  salaam  "  at  the  command  of 
its  nuister. 

He  will  put  an  egg  shell  in  a  little  cloth  bag,  slap  the  bag 
around  in  the  most  vicious  manner  on  the  deck,  against  his 
own  shins,  or  on  a  projecting  spar,  will  then  take  the  bag 
in  both  hands  and  wring  it  so  vigorously  that  you  are  sure 
that  not  even  a  fly  could  live  Avithin  its  folds;  then  coolly 
opening  the  mouth  of  the  bag,  the  egg  shell,  unharmed 
and  sound,  will  roll  out  u))on  the  deck  at  your  feet. 

He  Avill  open  his  mouth  and  take  out  one  pebble  after 
another,  until  you  are  convinced  that  he  has  a  gizzard  like  a 
turkey's,  and  that  he  keeps  a  store  of  stones  lor  digestive 
purposes  in  his  gullet,  for  they  all  seem  to  come  v.ip  from  the 
de])tlis  of  his  throat.  One,  two,  three,  four,  up  to  nine  of 
these  pebbles  he  will  disgorge,  and  then,  with  a  convulsive 
effort  by  which  he  seems  to  be  throwing  up  his  Adam's 
apple  itself,  will  come,  one  after  the  other,  four  large  stones 


FOLLOWERS  OP  THE   "BLACK   ART," 


287 


as  big  as  liens'  ('<^<'s,  which  ho  will  add  to  the  pile  of  the 
sniallor  stones  at  his  feet. 

JJefore  your  very  eyes  ho  will  ])lant  a  dry,  withered 
manf>-o-stone.  After  |)ronouncin<i^  a  low  (oiijurer's  incanta- 
tions over  this  stone,  and  ])assin<^  a  handkerchief  ()ver  it,  you 
lind,  to  your  sur|)riso,  that  it  has  spi'outed  into  a  little  mango 
tree  with  four  tiny  leaves.  Another  incantatioti  and  the 
tree   has  grown  into  a  sizeable   bush   with   thi-ee   or  four 


I  'i 


l)      '■         wl 


THE  FAMOUS  BASKET  THICK. 


branches ;  still  another  spell  iu  pronounced  and  the  bush  has 
become  a  tree,  from  which  he  will  pluck  and  hand  you  a  ripe 
and  luscious  mango,  even  if  it  be  not  in  the  mango  season. 

The  "basket  trick"  is  also  a  favorite  with  these  followers 
of  the  "  black  art."  A  young  girl,  often  a  very  ])retty  girl, 
is  tied  together  with  long,  stout  ropes,  which  seem  to  be 
knotted  most  securely.  The  girl  is  then  crowded  into  a 
wicker  basket,  larger  at  the  bottom  but  growing  smaller 
towards  the  top,  where  the  hole  is  just  large  enough  to 


288 


THE  FAMOUS    BASKET  TRICK. 


admit  her  body.  Then  the  Cv)njurer  takes  an  ugly-looking- 
sword,  which  is,  however,  probably  far  more  harmless  than 
it  appears,  and  deliberately  jabs  right  and  left,  iij)  and  down, 
backwards  and  forwards,  into  the  basket.  Through  the  center 
and  out  at  every  side  the  sword  is  seen  to  stick,  while  one  is 
willing  to  aver,  by  all  that  is  true,  that  it  is  impossible  for 
the  sword  to  escape  the  body  of  the  imprisoned  girl.  Most 
recklessly  the  juggler  lunges  at  the  basket.  For  the  sake 
of  heightening  the  effect,  the  girl  emits  timid  little  scjucals 
once  in  a  while,  and  sometimes  red  fluid,  that  looks  like 
blood,  pours  from  the  side  of  the  basket.  But,  a  few  mo- 
ments after,  the  girl,  who  has  apparently  been  stabbed  in  a 
hundred  places,  steps  forth  from  her  prison-house  smiling, 
unbound,  and  unharmed. 

Five  days  from  Penang  brings  us  to  Colombo,  where  we 
have  our  first  glimpse  of  genuine  Indian  lifp.  Hitherto,  the 
ubiquitous  Chinaman  has  been  before  us  everywhere.  He 
has  monopolized  the  markets,  crowded  out  the  natives, 
trundled  the  jinrikisha,  and  cheated  us  with  bare-faced  impu- 
dence. But  before  getting  to  Colombo  he  seems  to  stop 
short,  and  there  we  see  only  the  natives  of  the  soil.  To  be 
sure  there  are  many  people  from  the  mainland  of  India,  who 
have  come  to  the  more  fertile  island  of  Ceylon  to  find  work 
when  their  crops  have  failed.  But  the  Singhalese  and  the 
natives  of  Southern  India  speak  the  same  language,  and 
resemble  one  another  very  much  in  customs  and  costumes. 

The  glorious  missionary  hymn,  which  every  young  Chris- 
tian learns  as  soon  as  he  knows  the  Lord's  Pra3'er,  has 
throvn  a  peculiar  halo  of  romance  around  this  beautiful 
island  of  the  coral  seas,  and  more  romantic  day  dreams  have 
centred  here  than  upon  any  other  spot  on  the  face  of  the 
earth.  One  is  quite  prepared  to  detect  the  "  spicy  breezes  " 
long  before  he  sights  the  palm-girt  shores  of  Ceylon. 


Ceylon's  fragrant  isle. 


289 


A  waggish  captain  of  whom  wo  liave  heard,  taking 
advantage  of  this  universal  expectation  horn  of  the  old 
hvnin,  while  the  passengers  were  at  "tiflRn,"  smeared  the 
rail  of  the  upper  deck  with  oil  of  cloves  and  cinnamon.  Just 
as  the  vessel  neared  the  land,  the  passengers  came  up  from 
their  lunch  one  after  another ;  the  spicy  odors  were  strong 
and  pungent,  and  were  cited  hy  the  captain  as  proof  positive 
that  the  breeze  was  blowing  "soft  o'er  Cevlon's  isle."  It 
was  not  till  he  readied  Calcutta  that  he  exi)lained  the  little 
joke,  and  dispelled  the  romantic  notions  of  fair  Ceylon. 

One  is  sure  to  believe,  when  he  first  lands  at  Colombo, 
that  the  breezes  are  anything  but  spicy,  for  all  sorts  of 
odors  Avhicli  make  up  the  usual  smells  of  a  large  seaport  city 
greet  one  as  he  steps  ashore.  IMoreover,  if  one  penetrates 
far  into  the  native  town,  he  will  be  still  more  convinced  that 
there  are  other  odors  besides  those  of  clove  and  cinnamon 
which  are  wafted  abroad  in  Ceylon. 

As  every  place  has  its  characteristic  vehicle,  so  every  sea- 
port has  its  characteristic  native  boat.  Tlie  sli))per  boat  of 
Canton  gives  way  in  Kobe  to  the  larger  and  clumsier  lighter 
of  Japan.  This  in  turn  is  displaced  by  the  gorgeously 
painted  sampan  of  Penang,  Avhile  in  Colombo  none  of  these 
styles  of  boat  building  are  seen,  but  a  curious  double-keeled 
catamaran,  with  large  out-riders,  and  so  narrow  that  a 
passenger  can  barely  squeeze  his  two  legs  between  the  sides 
of  the  very  rakish-looking  little  craft.  However,  the  cata- 
maran is  by  no  means  so  insecure  as  it  appears,  l)ut,  owing 
to  the  large  out-rider,  it  is  able  to  brave  almost  any  sea 
in  safety. 

The  harbor  of  Colombo,  though  protected  by  a  long  and 
expensive  breakwater,  is  not,  by  any  means,  a  quiet  haven, 
and  such  boats  as  these  are  the  only  ones,  besides  the  steam 

tugs,  that  Avill  lie  in  the  turbulent  surf  that  sometimes  breaks 

18 


290 


THE  SWARMING   STREETS. 


IS. 


on  the  shore.  AV(>  were  seized  ujion  as  we  stood  upon  the 
deck  of  the  Jlitlirn  by  lialf  a  score  of  importunate  boatmen, 
and  were  ahnost  })ulled  lind)  JVom  limb  in  theii-  anxiety  to 
secure  us  for  their  little  craft.  At  last,  assertin<^  our  ri<j;ht 
to  t)wnership  in  our  beleaguered  ])ersons,  we  transferred  our- 
seh'"s  and  our  baggagj^  to  the  least  importunate  of  our 
1;  3n  and  were  rowed  safely  to  the  i)ier. 

.•e,  again,  the  struggUi  to  possess  us  and  <^ur  baggage 
was  renewed.  I'aiidynien  and  coolies,  liotel  runnei's  and 
guides,  besiege  us  from  every  (juarter,  jabberitig  and  ])ulling 
and  jostling  and  ])nshing,  with  all  the  importunate  impei'ti- 
nence  of  cab  drivers  at  Niagara  in  the  ohU'ii  time.  Again 
we  are  com])elled  to  assert  our  claim  to  our  own  ])ersonality, 
and,  after  seeing  our  baggage  duly  installed  in  a.  bullock 
bandy,  we  walk  on  Ix'hind  aftei'  the  custom  of  travelers  in 
Colondx),  until  we  i-eached  our  roomy  and  comfoi-table  hotel. 
Even  the  walk  to  the  lH)tel  r«n'eals  a  conglomerate 
])ictures(|ueness  in  the  swarming  streets,  which  i)romises  well 
for  the  intei'est  of  our  stay  in  (\)lombo.  lici-c  nro  white- 
tui'baiu'd  Hindus,  'vith  long  white  cloths  over  their  shoulders 
and  round  their  loins;  I'rahmins  with  little  spots  of  sacred 
yellow  ashes  on  their  foreheads;  Hivites  with  three  vertical 
lines,  two  white  and  one  red,  to  indicate  that  they  are  wor- 
shipers of  Siva,  the  cruel  goddess;  and  nmny  other  Hindus 
Avith  dilferent  liiu's  and  spots  of  sacred  ashes  to  show  the 
])articular  bi-and  of  their  heathenism.  Here,  too,  Mahom- 
medans  in  I'ed  fe/zes  and  I'arsees  in  high  glazed  hats  mingle 
with  the  throng,  and  hei'e  and  there  a  Kui'oju'an,  shaded  by 
an  immense  ])ith  helmet,  which  often  comes  tlown  over  his 
features  like;  a  mushroom  over  a  diminutive  toa<l.  Naked 
childi-en,  many  of  them  with  beautiful  black  eyes  and  be- 
Avitching  curly  hair,  swai'ui  everywhere.  Before  they  are 
able  to  speak  they  learn  to  hold  out  their  little  hands  in 


HKSIK(iKl>   HY    nK(J({AUS. 


201 


boffffivrv,  for  two  instincts  soom  to  have  been  fully  (IovcIoihmI 
anion;^  the  inhabitants  of  ('()h)inb()  —  the  coininoivial  in- 
stinct and  the  facuUy  for  bci>i>in^.  lU><;<^ai's  swarm  ovory- 
whoro,  with  all  sorts  of  claims  on  human  sympathy,  revolt- 
in*^  and  dis^'ustin^  onou<;'h  oftentimes,  thrusting  their  de- 
formities and  loathsome  diseases  into  your  very  face  and 
oyo«   u  oi'dei"  that  they  might  excite  your  pity. 

Of  all  ti'aders  that  I  have  ever  seen,  the  Coloml)o  sho)> 
k«H^[)er  is  most  persistent,  vivacious,  and  vigorous.  (\M'tain 
lines  of  business  seem  lo  be  oviM'stocked  in  this  little  city, 
especially  the  trade  in  i)reci()us  stones, —  moonstones,  saj)- 
])hires,  and  rubies.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  (>very  second  man 
whom  we  meet  on  the  street  has  his  ])ock(^t  full  of  ])recious 
stones,  either  real  or  imitation,  most  likely  the  latti'r,  which 
ho  is  bound  you  should  huy,  if  his  elocpient  persistency  can 
induce  you  t<>  ))art  with  your  rupees.  From  evei'V  shop 
<loor  and  Avindow  comes  the  heseiH'hing  invitation,  "  Lady 
buy"  ;  "Master  come  in  "  ;  "  Master  look,  just  look,  need  not 
l)uy";  "Do  come,  master";  "  Mamma,  please  look  hero," 
Every  few  stejjs  a  proprietoi-  of  a  jewelry  bazaar  will  rush 
out  at  you  with  a  handful  of  moonstones  and  sapphires, 
which  ho  will  insist  on  your  taking.  If  you  a.ss(>i't  you  have 
no  money  to  si)ai'(\  he  will  tell  you  that  he  will  trust  yim, 
and  that  you  can  take  the  jewels  home  with  you  to  America, 
and  send  him  the  money  when  you  are  convinc(>d  of  thoir 
value.  Such  conll«ling  trust  in  human  natuni  I  hav(^  not 
seen  elsowliere,  and  when  1  asked  for  the  ivason  of  this  con- 
fidence in  a  ])assing  traveler,  I  was  assured  tliat  the  dealci's 
could  well  all'ord  to  take  the  risk  involved  in  the  oiTer,  and 
that,  though  tlu^y  occasionally  lost  their  jewels,  they  made  up 
for  it  amply  by  tho  enormous  price  Avhich  they  obtained 
from  other  ])eople  for  com  pa  i-a  lively  w<n'thless  stones. 

Even  the  children  scarcely  out  of  babyhood  ac(iuii'e  tho 


I? 


I 


293 


A  MANIA  FOR  TRADING. 


mania  for  trading,  and  they  will  run  by  the  side  of  your 
gharri  by  the  half  liour  with  bouquets  of  bright-coloi-cd 
flowers  and  canes  and  every  imaginable  trinket,  with  which 
they  think  they  can  beguile  the  unwary  traveler.  If  you 
refuse  to  buy  they  will  thnjw  the  bouquet  into  the  carriage 
at  you,  crying  out  in  their  childish  treble :  "  Take  it,  master, 
it's  yours";  "It's  a  gift,  mamma."  If,  however,  you  take 
them  at  their  word  and  actually  accept  the  boutjuet  as  a 
gift,  they  will  follow  you  weeping  and  wailing  and  beseech- 
ing you  to  pay  them  for  it,  and  make  your  life  miserable 
until  you  either  throw  back  the  worthless  little  bunch  of 
flowers  or  give  them  a  half  anna  as  its  price. 

The  Cinnamon  Gardens  just  outside  the  busy  streets  of 
Colombo  are  by  no  means  as  impressive  and  as  beautiful  as 
their  romantic  name  indicates  to  foreign  ears,  for  the  cinna- 
mon bush  is  rather  a  scraggy  shrub,  without  any  special 
characteristics  in  outward  a})pearance  to  distinguish  it  from 
a  hundred  other  bushes  in  the  jungle.  As  one  crushes  the 
leaves  in  his  hands,  however,  or  scrajics  the  tender  l)ark 
from  the  branch.^  the  delicious  odor  of  the  cassia  ])lant  is  per- 
ceived, and  one  is  tempted  to  buy  all  the  gnarled  and  ugly 
sticks  which  are  for  sale,  for  the  sake  of  the  spicy  fragrance. 

Here,  too,  every  tropical  fruit  grows  with  the  utmost 
luxuriance.  Unlike  Southern  India,  Ceylon  is  frequently 
visited  by  refreshing  showers  which  wash  Nature's  face  and 
keep  it  always  smiling.  Long  rows  of  cocoanut,  bread-fruit, 
and  jack-fruit  trees  line  the  country  roads,  and  some  mag- 
nificent views  tempt  one  to  linger  beneath  their  shade. 

A  few  miles  from  Colomljo  is  a  fine  estate,  noted  among 
other  things  for  its  ancient  turtle,  which  is  known  to  be  at 
least  400  years  old ;  since  it  has  been  upon  the  title  deeds  (^f 
that  ])roperty  for  that  length  of  time.  It  lies  in  a  little 
pool  of  fresh  water  in  a  valley  near  the  seashore,  and  never 


AN  ANCIENT  AND  HONORABLE  TURTLE. 


293 


attempts  to  wander  away  to  greener  fields  and  pastures 
new.  In  the  liot  weather,  however,  the  pool  dries  up,  and 
then  his  turtleship  every  morning  marches  majestically  up 
to  the  bungalow  to  have  cold  water  thrown  over  his  })arclied 
and  dusty  carapace.  When  he  has  been  sufficiently  re- 
freshed with  nuiny  buckets  of  water  he  goes  bad:  to  his 
valley  again,  until  he  is  ready  for  another  refreshing 
shower  bath. 

As  in  other  Eastern  countries,  everything  here  is  done  out 
of  doors.  In  Colombo  the  fruit  stores  and  shoe  shops,  the 
barber,  cabinet  makers,  and  jewelry  dealers  all  do  their 
trading  and  bargaining  and  mechanical  work  with  as  few 
partitions  between  them  and  the  general  public  as  possible. 

Everywhere  we  meet  semi-naked  coolies  carrying  huge 
baskets  of  vegetables  and  other  provisions,  dry  goods  and 
hardware,  and  every  article  known  to  commerce,  upon  their 
stalwart  shoulders.  Loads  which  would  crush  an  average 
European  to  the  ground  they  hoist  to  their  shoulders  or  lift 
to  their  heads,  and  trot  off  with  them  as  though  burdened 
only  with  a  feather  duster. 

The  Singhalese  men  wear  high  tortoise-shell  combs, 
which  give  them  a  very  odd  appearance.  To  see  a  stalwart, 
muscular  man  Avitli  a  little  girl's  tortoise-shell  comb  perched 
on  the  top  of  his  head  is  a  combination  of  brawny  barba- 
rism and  Miss  Nancyism,  which  is  very  amusing. 

But  we  have  lingered  as  long  as  our  journey  Avill  permit 
amid  the  soft  breezes  of  Cevlon,  and  must  take  the  steamer 
across  the  turbulent  strait  that  separates  us  from  the  main- 
land of  India. 


\^ 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


IN  SOUTHERN  INDIA. 


Journey  with  a  Bad  Reputation  —  Landing  at  Tuticorin  —  Railway 
Traveling  in  India  —  A  New  Use  for  a  Dirty  Sock  —  Preparing  for  Hot 
Weather  —  House  Building  in  the  Tropics  —  "  Give  the  Sun  no  Chance  " 
—  Horses  under  Pith  Hats  —  Barren  India  — On  tlie  Ragged  Edge  of 
Famine  —  Gaunt  Starvation  —  Disputing  with  the  Ants  —  Buffaloes 
and  LoUfe -legged  Goats  —  A  Sunset  Scene  —  A  Missionary  Bungalow  — 
A  Girls'  Boarding  School  —  How  They  Make  up  Their  Beds  —  An  In- 
ventory of  a  Maiden's  Jewels  —  A  Missionary's  Manifold  Labors  —  A 
Picnic  in  the  Jungle  —  The  "Nine  Lac  Garden"  —  Serious  Duties 
Again  —  A  Bicycle  Story  —  The  Good  Devil  and  his  Terrible  Bell  — 
"Tell  Me  Your  Name,  Good  Devil  "  —  Bound  in  the  Shackles  of  the 
Caste  System  —  Encouragement  for  the  Future  —  A  Brave  Brahmin. 

HE  journey  from  Colombo  to  Tuti- 
corin has  anvthino;  but  an  envia- 
ble  reputation,  but  it  is  like  some 
people  whose  reputation  is  worse 
than  their  actual  character,  or 
who  at  least  have  lucid  intervals 
when  their  better  natures  pre- 
vail. We  found  the  short  journey 
of  a  day  and  a  night  between 
the  two  ports  very  pleasant  and 
restful.  The  British  India 
^  steamer    was    large    and    com- 

fortable ;  the  sea  Avas  smooth  and  smiling ;  and  even  the 
dreaded  landing  at  Tuticorin,  which  had  been  pictured  to  us 
as  a  most  harrowing  experience,  was  by  no  means  as  bad  as 

we  expected. 

(294) 


a 


RAILWAY  TRAVEL  IN  INDIA. 


295 


On  all  this  southern  coast  of  India  there  is  not  a  good 
harbor,  and  Tuticorin,  like  the  great  capital  of  Madras,  is  sit- 
uated on  the  stormy,  surf -beaten  shore  of  the  open  ocean. 

At  Tuticorin  passengers  are  taken  ashore  by  a  small, 
puffing,  bobbing  tug-boat,  whose  gyrations  often  try  even 
the  strongest  stomach.  Calm  as  was  the  day  on  which 
we  landed,  the  little  steamer  which  came  to  take  us  off 
jumped  and  bumped  against  her  larger  sister,  and  threatened 
to  tear  away  the  gangway  which  had  been  let  do\vn  for  us 
to  descend.  However,  by  skillful  manoeuvring,  we  got  away 
from  the  great  ship's  side  without  any  serious  damage,  and, 
in  course  of  time,  we  landed  at  the  tiny  wharf  which  ran  out 
from  the  shore. 

Tuticorin  is  a  long,  low,  rambling,  native  town,  contain- 
ing about  twenty  European  inhabitants.  It  does  not  invite 
the  traveler  to  linger  long  in  its  hot  and  dusty  streets.  AVo 
found  our  way  to  the  railway  station  and  were  soon  aboard 
the  train  for  Madura,  the  largest  city  of  Southern  India. 

Railway  traveling  in  Southern  India  has  some  peculiari- 
ties which  distinguish  it  from  travel  in  other  parts  of  the 
world.  The  distances  are  long,  the  trains  are  slow,  and 
much  of  the  journey  must  be  done  at  night,  so  that  every 
first  and  second-class  car  has  a  sleeping  compartment.  But 
do  not  imagine  for  a  moment,  my  reader,  that  a  Pullman  or 
"Wagner  have  cast  their  inventive  spell  over  the  Indian  rail- 
Avays.  Far  from  it,  as  you  will  find  before  you  have  spent  a 
night  on  one  of  them.  There  are  two  tiers  of  berths  on  each 
side  of  each  compartment  running  lengthwise  with  the  car, 
and  sometimes  three  tiers,  and  on  these  narrow  shelves  one 
must  curl  up,  providing  his  own  blankets  and  pillows,  and 
thus  pass  as  comfortable  a  night  as  circumstances  will  permit. 

Many  travelers  take  their  own  servants  with  them,  who 
make  up  their  beds  and  look  after  their  baggage,  and  even 


r 


5>9G 


A  NEW   WAY  TO  MAKE  COFFEE. 


provide  them  Avitli  lunches  from  the  capacious  hampers, 
whicli  are  usually  taken  along  on  such  journeys.  A  servant 
is  not  necessary,  however,  but  is  often  felt  to  be  rather  in 
the  way  by  those  who  are  accustomed  to  wait  upon  them- 
selves. There  are  occasional  eating  houses  provided  at  the 
stations  along  the  route,  and  any  number  of  coolies  may  be 
hired  at  a  moment's  notice,  Avho,  for  a  quarter  of  an  anna, 
or  one  cent,  will  carry  your  baggage  for  any  reasonable 
distance. 

The  ideas  of  some  of  these  native  servants  who  are  picked 
up  by  the  round-the-world  traveler,  as  to  the  proprieties  of 
civilized  life,  are  sometimes  startling.  To  this,  that  traveler 
will  testify  who  woke  up  one  morning  and  looked  aghast  as 
he  saw  his  servant  straining  his  morning  coffee  through  one 
of  his  socks  Avhich  had  been  discarded  the  night  before. 
Springing  from  his  berth  the  traveler  cried  out :  "  What  are 
you  doing,  you  rascal,  what  are  you  straining  that  coffee 
through  ?  "  "  Oh,  master,  master,"  replied  the  terrified  ser- 
vant, "  it  is  not  master's  clean  stocking,  it  is  master's  dirty 
stocking.  Coolie  will  not  use  master's  clean  stocking  for 
coffee."  The  master,  however,  was  hardly  reassured  by  this 
information,  and  lost  his  appetite  for  his  usual  morning 
beverage,  as  can  be  easily  imagined. 

These  railway  cars,  like  everything  else  in  India,  are  built 
for  hot  weather  which,  in  the  southern  part  of  the  continent 
at  least,  prevails  for  eleven  months  in  the  year.  So  every- 
one prepares  for  the  hot  weather,  and  the  people  suffer  as 
little,  I  imagine,  from  the  extreme  heat  as  inhabitants  of  a 
northern  clime  suffer  from  extreme  cold.  The  pity  that  is 
lavished  upon  dwellers  in  the  tropics  on  account  of  the  heat 
they  endure  and  on  the  inhabitants  of  Arctic  regions  on 
account  of  the  cold  they  suffer,  is  largely  misplaced,  as  these 
inhabitants  tl.iemselves  Avould  assert. 


"GIVE  THE  SUN  NO  CHANCE." 


107 


i 


As  I  said,  in  India  even  the  railway  cars  are  built  for  hot 
weather.  Tho  double  roof  keeps  the  sun  from  beating 
directly  upon  the  passengers;  tlie  wide,  projcv'^ting  blinds 
■wprd  off  his  beams  frcjm  the  windows,  which  are  often  made 
of  smoked  glass,  the  better  to  protect  the  traveler ;  the  seats 
are  not  upholstered  in  plush  and  woolen,  but  in  cool  leather 
or  still  cooler  straw,  and  often  at  the  stations  water  by  the 
bucketful  is  thrown  over  the  top  of  the  cars  and  allowed  to 
trickle  down  their  sides  that  evaporation  may  keep  the  occu- 
pants cooler. 

This  regard  for  the  season,  too,  regulates  the  building  of 
the  houses,  which  for  the  most  part  are  high-posted  dwell- 
ings of  one  story,  with  ample  verandas,  and  wide  doors 
which  are  seldom  closed,  day  or  night.  A  screen  with  a 
wide  space  at  the  top  and  bottom  of  the  doors  affords 
ample  privacy,  and  in  every  way  air  is  encouraged  to  circu- 
late above  and  below,  and  wherever  a  breath  of  wind  can  bo 
prevailed  upon  to  blow. 

The  airy  costumes  of  the  people  emphasize  the  fact  that 
they  live  in  the  tropics,  while  foreigners  usually  provide 
themselves  with  huge  pith  hats,  which,  though  far  from 
comely,  protect  the  sensitive  skull  of  the  European  from  the 
burning  rays  of  the  sun. 

"  Give  the  sun  no  chance,"  is  one  of  the  proverbs  on 
every  person's  tongue.  If  he  once  shoots  his  rays  upon  you, 
so  that  you  are  even  partly  stricken  by  them,  it  is  very  diffi- 
cult ever  after  to  live  in  India.  Even  horses  in  many  cities 
are  protected  by  pith  helmets.  At  the  best,  these  poor 
creatures  do  but  little  work  when  compared  with  their 
Northern  brethren.  Eight  or  ten  miles  a  day  for  a  horse, 
unless  he  be  one  of  the  hardy  native  ponies,  is  considered  a 
sufficient  daily  task  for  these  tropical  latitudes.  Men  and 
women,  too,  learn  to  take  life  more  easily  here  than  in  the 


298 


ON  THE  VERGE   OF  FAMINE. 


I 


;■; 


North.  Early  morning  tea,  often  in  bed,  a  lato  breakfast, 
witii  a  nap  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  and  dinner  towards 
sunset,  is  the  usual  routine  of  family  life.  Work,  both  in- 
tellectual and  j)hysical,  must  be  done  in  the  cool  of  the  day ; 
exercise  must  bo  taken  when  the  sun  is  sinking  below  tho 
horizon,  or  not  at  all. 

Southern  India  was  much  more  barren  and  desert-liko 
than  we  had  sui)posed.  "  India's  coral  strand"  had  always 
been  pictured  to  our  inuigination  as  clothed  in  living  green 
and  begirt  with  waving  palm  trees.  When  wc  saw  it  vegeta- 
ti(m  was  as  withered  and  much  of  the  land  was  as  i)arched  as 
the  desert  of  Sahara  itself,  (iaunt,  bleak  mountains  rose  in 
the  distance,  and  as  we  came  nearer  we  could  sec  that  they 
were  treeless  and  jiastureless;  no  gurgling  brooks  ran  down 
their  thirsty  sides,  no  growth  of  spruce  and  hendock,  pine  or 
lir,  whicii  make  our  American  hills  so  beautiful,  clothed 
their  ragged  spurs,  but,  arid  and  bare,  they  stood  out  in  tho 
blazing  sunlight,  the  bleached  monuments  of  many  cen- 
turies of  drought. 

^[any  diy  seasons  have  succeeded  one  another  in  some 
parts  of  Southern  India,  and  in  not  a  few  places  the  people, 
alwavs  on  the  verge  of  famine,  had  crossed  the  terribly  nar- 
row  line  which  separates  them  fnmi  poverty  or  actual 
starvation. 

In  many  places  in  the  lields  wo  could  see  men  and 
Avomen  digging  eagei'ly  for  dry  roots,  which  in  times  when 
the  crops  fail  and  dii-e  necessity  urges,  are  used  for  food,  but 
Avliich  ar(\  at  tiu;  best,  ver}^  coarse  and  distasteful  fare.  In 
other  ])laces  wc  could  see  old  women  ci'ouching  ovci-  and 
hobl)ling  along  tho  road,  picking  up,  graiti  by  grain,  a  few 
scattered  kernels  of  rice  which  had  fallen  from  the  scanty 
sheaves  which  the  men  had  borne  along  before  them.  A 
missionary  friend  told  me  that  he  had  more  than  once  seen 


I 


i 

JL 


ROBBING   THE  ANTS  OP  THEIR  STORES. 


299 


the  people  scratching  in  the  ant-hills  tor  grain  hidden  by  the 
industrious  insects  for  future  use,  so  reduced  and  poverty- 
stricken  are  the  masses  of  the  ])e()()le. 

The  government  luul  started  relief-works  in  some  jnirts 
of  Intlia,  anticipating  a  famine,  and  the  missionaries  were 
busy,  even  in  the  early  spring,  in  distributing  what  they 
could  alford,  to  keep  their  people  from  actual  starvation. 


^?i*- 


NATIVKS   <)!''    KOlTIIKHN    IM)r.\. 


The  price  of  rice,  which  in  seasons  of  plenty  goes  as  low  as 
sixteen  measures  to  the  rujjee,  now  has  gone  uj)  to  live  and  six 
measures  to  the  rupee,  and  it  can  be  iniiigliicd  how  little  the 
people  whose  crops  have  failed  get  for  the  few  "])ice"  they 
have  at  their  disposal  for  their  daily  rations.  Those  who 
live  in  more  favored  lands,  where  famine  is  unknown  and 
the  rains  never  fail,  can  scarcely  comi)rcliend  what  it  is  to 
see  the  gaunt  form  of  Famine  stalking  along  the  highway. 


300 


SEEN  FROM  THE   CAR  WINDOW. 


':  i 


: 


s 


Scones  from  the  car  window,  however,  are  not  altogether 
sad  and  glo<jniy.  The  railway  stations  are  alive  with  dusky 
people  in  many  colored  garments.  Even  the  dry  lields  seem 
to  afford  some  nourishment  for  the  hump-backed  cows,  and 
the  smooth-haired,  rhinoceros-like  buffaloes;  while  great 
herds  of  long-legged  goats,  which  ajipear  to  be  walking  (»n 
stilts,  show  the  sky  line  plainly  beneath  their  bellies,  as  one 
looks  out  upon  the  fields  where  they  are  grazing  in  every 
direction. 

The  goatherds,  as  in  Scripture  times,  are  watching  over 
their  flocks,  and  sometimes,  as  they  go  on  before  to  better 
pastures,  they  are  followed  by  long  lines  of  their  gaunt 
flocks  marching  in  single  file  a  quarter  of  a  mile  long,  over 
the  dry  and  dusty  fields. 

Here  and  there  we  pass  tanks  and  reservoirs  of  water 
which  are  not  entirely  dry.  Occasionally  we  see  treadmill 
bullocks,  hitched  to  long  ropes  by  which  water  is  raised 
from  the  depths  below  and  poured  into  the  open  ditches, 
whence  it  is  conveyed  to  the  few  rice  fields  which  the  inhab- 
itants are  still  trying  to  cultivate. 

As  the  day  goes  on  the  evening  coolness  steals  over  us, 
and  with  the  setting  sun  the  most  delightful  period  of  the 
Indian  day  approaches.  The  whole  western  sky  is  suffused 
with  brilliant  light;  a  delicate  pink  above  shades  off  into 
vivid  crimson  and  purple  near  the  horizon.  Not  a  particle 
of  vapor  is  in  the  air,  and  the  clear,  transparent  sky  above, 
unfiecked  with  clouds,  is  made  strangely  luminous  by  the 
brilliancy  of  the  departing  "King  of  Day."  Lower  and 
lower  sinks  the  sun,  and  the  glories  above  the  horizon  be- 
come less  pronounced  but  more  delicate  in  their  tone,  while 
even  now  is  rising  the  full,  silvery  moon.  At  least,  on  this 
journey  to  Madura  she  rose  as  the  sun  went  down  and 
flooded  the  plains  with  her  mellow  light. 


A  missionary's  bungalow. 


301 


And  now  everything  is  glorified ;  the  scjualid  hovels  of 
the  pariahs  are  touclietl  with  silver;  the  rugged  (outlines  of 
the  hills  are  softened  and  mellowed ;  the  dry  and  })ar(;lied 
rice  iields,  which  Avould  bear  not  even  a  cii})ful  of  precious 
grain  for  their  cultivators,  look,  under  this  silvery  radiance, 
like  the  favored  gardens  of  the  gods,  and  everything  is 
changed  from  the  harsh  brilliance  of  sunlight  to  the  mellow 
glories  of  the  evening. 

A  journey  of  two  hours  after  sunset  brought  us  to  some 


A  NATIVE   VIIiLAGE   OF   SOUTHEllN   INDIA. 

dear  friends  in  the  first  missionary  bungalow  which  it  was 
our  privilege  to  visit  in  India. 

Imagine  a  long,  low  building  with  wide  verandas,  su])- 
ported  by  large  pillars.  The  out-lying  buildings  are  quite 
impressive,  not  by  reason  of  their  magnificence  or  architec- 
tural beauty,  but  because  of  their  extent,  for  the  sleeping 
rooms  must  be  large  and  airy  to  be  in  anywise  tolerable  in 
the  hot  season,  and  the  missionary  is  often  expected  to  enter- 
tain guests,  Avhich  compels  him  to  have  a  house  of  generous 
size.     The  irreverent  globe-trotter  who  goes  home  to  deride 


I ' 


302 


THE   DISPENSARY  AND  BOARDING   SCHOOL. 


! 


I 


missionary  life,  and  to  tell  about  the  luxury  and  extrava- 
gance of  missionaries'  homes,  is  fre(juently  very  glad  to  take 
shelter  beneath  this  hospitable  roof  when  he  llnds  himself  in 
an  Indian  city  with  no  other  place  in  which  to  spend  the 
night  than  the  indill'erent  traveler's  bungalow. 

A  little  away  from  the  first  bungalow,  into  Avhich  we 
were  introduced  to  missionary  life,  stands  another  house, 
that  of  the  medical  missionary.  Here,  tens  of  thousands  of 
suffering  natives  every  year  obtain  medicine  or  surgical 
treatment  which  restores  them  to  health  and  strength. 
There  is  no  more  powerful  auxiliary  of  missionary  effort 
than  the  surgeon's  knife,  and  the  well-stocked  dispensary. 
On  either  side  of  the  central  bungalow  are  the  teachers' 
houses,  where  the  unmarried  ladies  of  the  mission  have  their 
abode,  and  near  by  is  the  dormitory  for  the  girls'  boarding 
school.  AVe  find  no  dainty,  carpeted,  and  curtained  bou- 
doirs such  as  Yassar,  Smith,  and  AVellesley  can  boast,  but  a 
low  shed-like  building,  which  affords  shelter  and  the  few 
necessary  conveniences  to  the  girls  Avho  are  here  obtaining 
an  Education. 

Ko  four-posted,  spring  beds,  with  hair  mattresses,  are 
required  for  these  damsels,  for,  if  we  look  closely,  we  shall 
see  the  beds  for  fifty  of  them  rolled  up  and  stuck  into  a  little 
case  like  an  umbrella  rack.  Each  maiden  has  one  mat  for 
her  bed,  and  all  she  has  to  do  when  bedtime  comes  is  to 
unroll  her  mat,  spread  it  on  the  floor,  and  go  quietly  off  to 
the  Land  of  IS^od.  "What  a  saving,  this,  of  chambermaids 
and  household  annoyances,  to  be  thus  independent  of  sheets 
and  blankets  and  spring  mattresses !  And  here  are  the  girls 
themselves  in  their  schoolroom,  gathered  for  evening  pray- 
ers, a  hundred  bright-eyed,  earnest,  intelligent  damsels, 
many  of  them  exceedingly  pretty,  and  showing  in  their 
faces  their  capacity  for  intellectual  discipline.    To  be  sure, 


A   SCHOOUHKL  S  JEWELS. 


303 


tlieir  clothes  and  their  ornaments  look  strange  to  unaccus- 
tomed eyes.  A  long  ])iece  of  bi'illiant  cloth  affords  ample 
clothing  to  answer  all  the  demands  not  only  of  decency,  hut 
modest V.  The  ears  of  manv  <^f  them  are  full  of  jewels  from 
the  upper  to  the  lower  rim. 

Let  us  take  an  inventory  of  the  jewels  which  bedeck  one 
of  these  little  maidens. 

On  her  wrists  are  seven  bracelets,  on  each  ankle  three 
more  tinkling  silver 
circlets,  her  nose  is 
])ierced  with  rings 
and  is  glowing  with 
sjiarkling  jewels, 
which  are  probably' 
paste,  but  in  any 
event  are  most  pre- 
cious in  the  eyes  of 
this  unsophisticated 
damsel,  while  in  her  jj 
ears  are  no  less  than 
five  rings,  some  of 
them  of  enormousilfiiy* 
size.  Some  of  these  ^^^^^^k 
girls  have  their  ears 
not  only  pierced,  but 
slit  oi)en  so  widely  that  three  or  four  fingers  of  one's  hand 
might  easily  be  thrust  into  them,  and  heavy  peAvter  bangles 
dangle  from  them,  resting  oftentimes  upon  their  shoulders. 

The  Christian  girls,  however,  eschew  these  ornaments 
more  and  more  as  they  are  brought  under  missionary  in- 
fluence, and  not  a  few  of  them  have  had  their  ears  sewed  up 
again,  as  they  have  learned  to  appreciate  the  barbarity  of 
their  ornaments.    In  another  part  of  the  mission  compound 


JEWELS  OF   INDIA. 


11^ 


\ 


304 


AN   INEXPENSIVE   EDUCATION. 


i 

j 

■i 


is  a  row  of  litilo  cell-likc!  rooms,  wlierc  the  girls  retire  every 
inoi'ning  and  evening  I'oi*  j)rivate  devotions,  not  being  able  to 
have  much  ])i'ivacy  in  the  common  sleeping  room.  Their 
bill-o("-l'are  is  not  tht;  elaborate  duhu  of  a  girls'  college  at 
home,  of  which  ihe  comi(;  paju'rs  are  so  fond  of  making  fun, 
but  is  a  very  simple  one,  consisting  largely  of  rice  and  grain 
and  curry.  The  gii'ls  griiu!  theii'  own  grain  in  pi'imitive 
stone    mills,  such  as   were  used   in   l>ii)lc!  times;  while  the 

curry,  which  is  made 


i;!.!ll!iWMii 


various  mgredi- 
ents,  ])eppei's,  saffron, 
cardamon  seeds,  co- 
coamit,  etc.,  mixed 
together,  is  rolled  un- 
dei'  a  heav>'  stone  in 
,^  much  the  same  way, 
i.,  and  thus  })rej)are(l  for 
table  use.  As  can  l)e 
imagined,  tiicir  sim- 
])1(!  living,  ^vhich  sat- 
isfies (^ery  want  and 
is  all  that  they  are 
accustomed  to,  costs 
exc(!('(lingly  little. 
Tw(!lve  dollai's  a  year  will  supj)ort  on(^  of  these  dainty 
maidens,  or  one  of  her  brothers  in  the  l)oys'  school,  in 
another  ])a.rt  of  this  same  missionary  (!om])ound.  AVhat  do 
you  thiid<  of  that,  ()  students  of  YaU^  and  Harvard.  The 
twelvci  dollars  would  he  considci'ed  by  most  of  vou  a  scanty 
suj)j)ly  for  tli(!  expenses  of  one  week,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
other  fifty-one  in  the  yea i*. 

About  th(!  walls  of  this  mission    bungalow  lizards  arc 
crawling,  defLly  catching  the  flies  and  mos((uito(»s,  proving 


OHINDINd    CnUIY. 


1  14  , 


ii 


BISHOI',    PASTOR,   TEACHER,   i'HYSICIAN. 


305 


tlieinsolvos  very  good  insect  extcrniinjitors.  On  this  account 
they  are  often  wolconied  by  the  inliabitants,  and  live;  for 
months  and  years  in  the  same  room  without  being  disturbed. 
Crows,  with  shite-colored  necks,  go  hopping  al)out  every- 
where, so  tame  and  auchicious  that  they  will  ily  into  the  very 
dining-room  and  ])ick  the  food  oil  of  the  tables.  In  the  open 
com])o  nul  the  white  bullocks,  which  are  used  to  draw  the 
missioi.aiies'  bandies,  are  grazing,  and  before  the  door 
beautiful  flowers  and  groups  of  bright-leaved  plants  are 
growing. 

Altogether  it  is  a  very  comfortable  and  pretty  ])icturo 
which  the  missionary  bungalow  ])i'esentsto  the  visitor's  eyes. 
If  he  stays  long  enough  to  g(!t  into  the  missionary  spirit  he 
Avill  see  the  vast  amount  of  hard,  self-sacrificing  work  which 
is  accom[)lisheil  every  day, —  a  work  which,  though  its  results 
seem  small  and  meagre  at  times,  is  laying  the  foundation  for 
a  great  Christian  empire  in  India, —  a  work  which  will  bear 
fruit  a  hundredfold  in  this  worhl  and  a  thousand  times  a 
huudi'edfold  in  the  world  to  come. 

To  attempt  to  relate  the  manifold  work  of  the  mission- 
ary's nu)st  interesting  and  varied  labors  would  be  impossible 
in  this  connection,  lie  is  not  the  ))astor  of  a,  single  Hock,  as 
is  the  minist(>r  at  honu%  but  rather  the  bishop  of  a  district 
containing  hunch-eds  of  thousands,  ov  perhaps  millions  of 
souls.  Under  him  are  catechists,  ])astors,  Hible  wouumi,  and 
hel|)ers  of  both  sexes;  schools  for  boys  and  schools  for  girls; 
relief  woi'k  for  those  who  are  in  dire  poverty,  and  hosj)itals 
where  thousands  of  out-patients  and  huiulreds  of  in-patients 
are  treated  every  year. 

P>ut  it  must  not  be  thought  by  any  of  my  readers  that 
the  missionary  is  so  wholly  given  over  to  the  affairs  of  the 
other  world,  that  ho  has  no  regard  for  the  good  things  of 
this  life.     He  is  not  by  any  means  an  ascetic  if  he  is  a  true 


30(5 


PESTS  OF  THE  JUNGLE. 


I 


!;  \ 


i'l 


missionary  of  Christ,  for  his  Master  set  him  no  such  ex- 
am])le.  His  mission  in  part  is  to  live  among  the  people  as  a 
man  among  men ;  to  show  them  by  example  what  a  Chris- 
tian home  may  be,  and  to  elevate  them  to  his  own  standartl 
as  far  as  he  may  be  able. 

There  is  much  hearty  good  cheer  and  fellowship  in  these 
stations,  especially  when  missionaries  come  together  for  the 
annual  meeting,  from  their  different  fields  of  labor.  It  was 
our  privilege  to  be  present  at  some  of  these  annual  meetings 
of  dilferent  missions  in  India,  and  to  know  something  of  the 
good  cheer  as  well  as  of  the  hard  work  of  missionary  life. 

A  missionary  picnic  in  the  jungles  of  Southern  India  will 
long  live  in  our  memories  as  a  |)leasant  picture.  The  jungle 
is  not  always  an  impenetrable  tangle  of  tropical  shrubs  and 
climbing  creepers,  as  perhaps  many  of  my  readers  imagine, 
but  is  a  common  name  often  given  to  the  forest  land  of  India, 
and  is  sometimes  a  delightful  place  for  a  holiday  excursion, 
as  in  this  case.  Though,  to  be  sure,  one  must  keep  a  bright 
eye  out  for  cobras  and  other  venomous  snakes,  and  he  need 
not  travel  far  from  any  city  of  Southern  India  to  find  the 
dreaded  cheetah  or  panther  of  the  jungle. 

This  particular  picnic  Avhich  I  have  in  mind  was  in  the 
"Nine  Lac  Garden,"  as  it  is  called.  A  "lac"  is  a  hundred 
thousand,  and  the  "Nine  Lac  Garden"  was  the  garden 
of  nine  hundred  thousand  trees,  planted  by  the  prince  of 
Arcot  many  years  ago.  The  reckless  prince  squandered  his 
patrimony,  and  lost  the  Nine  Lac  Garden  with  the  rest 
of  his  property,  and  now  all  his  nine  hundred  thousand 
cocoanut  trees  and  palmyra  palms,  mangoes,  tamarinds,  and 
guavas,  have  passed  into  the  hands  of  aliens.  It  still  affords, 
however,  as  delightful  a  ])lace  as  ever  for  a  summer  holiday. 

Here,  under  the  spreading  banyan  trees,  were  laid  the 
snowy  white  tablecloths,  while  the  bachelor  missionaries,  by 


PICNICKING   IN   INDIA. 


307 


■whom  the  picnic  was  given,  exercised  their  skill  in  providing 
many  toothsome  dishes;  ending  the  entertainment  with  a 
grand  sui'prise,  which  was  no  other  than  some  bricks  of  ice 
cream  from  Madras.  To  be  eating  various  kinds  of  ice 
cream  on  a  hot  February  day  in  the  jungle  of  Southern 
India,  did  not  at  all  correspond  with  our  })reconceived  ideas 
of  life  in  the  forests  of  India,  but  railways  and  express 
messengers  and  telegraphic  communication  have  made  it 
possible  to  have  all  the  necessities  and  many  of  the  luxuries 
of  civilized  life  in  regions  where  a  few  years  ago  they  were 
unheard  of.  After  an  hour  or  two  of  hearty  good  cheer,  Ave 
took  our  places  in  our  gharris  once  more,  and  were  driven 
back  to  one  of  the  serious  duties  of  missionary  life — a  meet- 
ing for  the  educated  Hindus,  in  a  village  near  by.  Thus 
the  day  was  ended  as  it  had  begun,  and  was  continued  in 
earnest  effort  for  the  people  round  about,  as  every  day  is 
spent  by  our  missionary  friends.  The  picnic  Avas  an  episode 
and  breathing  spell,  as  necessary  and  deserved  as  a  parson's 
holiday  at  home,  or  a  student's  outing  after  a  long  term  of 
study. 

Thus  we  rode  back  to  meetings  and  services  with  which 
all  our  days  in  India  wore  iilled;  some  in  open  carriages, 
some  in  bullock  bandies,  antl  some  of  the  missionaries  on 
their  favorite  steed,  the  bicycle. 

Many  amusing  stories  are  told  of  the  effect  upon  cred- 
ulous natives  of  the  lirst  appearance  of  a  missionary  upon 
his  wheel. 

As  one  of  the  missionaries  Avas  riding  along  at  night 
on  his  high  Avheol,  ho  mot  a  Hindu,  who,  in  the  gloom 
of  the  evening,  could  see  only  his  high-perched  form  sup- 
ported, apparently,  by  nothing,  moving  at  a  tremendous 
pace  over  the  macadamized  road.  As  the  missionary  ap- 
proached he  rang  his  bell  that  the  Hindu  might  get  out  of 


308 


AN  AMUSING  STORY. 


1 1 


I 

III  :< 


the  way.  This  completely  paralyzed  the  poor  fellow,  and 
falling  upon  his  knees  he  cried  out :  "  Oh !  good  devil,  good 
devil,  tell  me  your  name,  tell  me  your  name,  good  devil. 
Oh !  Oh ! !  Oh ! ! !  I  never  did  you  any  harm,  good  devil. 
Go  away,  go  away !  Oh !  Oh ! !  Oh ! ! ! "  Then  he  began  to 
scream  and  run,  and  just  kept  ahead  of  the  wheel  in  what 
seemed  to  him  its  demoniacal  course.  Seeing  that  he  could 
not  gain  on  the  "good  devil,"  and  hearing  the  terrible  bell 
sounding  in  his  ears  and  proclaiming  his  destruction,  as  it 
doubtless  did  to  his  excited  imagination,  he  broke  inconti- 
nently across  the  fields  and  ran  with  all  his  might  to  the 
nearest  village,  to  tell  how  he  had  been  chased  by  an  evil 
spirit,  who  was  sounding  the  very  tomtom  of  Hades  in  his 
ears.  No  wonder  that  such  a  sight  thus  affected  his  un- 
tutored imagination. 

The  morning  of  the  day  on  which  we  enjoyed  this  unique 
picnic  in  the  Indian  jungle  had  been  spent  in  visiting  mission- 
ary schools,  dispensaries,  hospitals,  and  evangelistic  work. 
And  the  evening  concluded,  as  I  have  said,  with  a  meeting 
of  educated  Hindus. 

This  movement  among  the  educated  classes  of  India  is 
most  interesting  and  hopeful.  Though  few  of  the  higher 
castes  are  as  yet  directly  connected  with  the  Christian 
church,  the  leaven  of  the  Gospel  is  evidently  working  among 
them.  For  the  most  part  they  are  very  friendly  to  the  mis- 
sionaries, and  open  to  their  influence  in  social  and  educa- 
tional matters,  while  in  -efforts  for  the  temperance  cause,  the 
Brahmins,  Avho  by  religion  and  heritage  are  strict  teetotalers, 
work  together  with  the  missionaries  for  the  uplifting  of  their 
fellow  men. 

In  some  places  the  missionaries  have  established  lyceums 
and  debating  societies,  and  in  connection  with  these,  high 
caste  people  are  brought,  to  some  extent  at  least,  under 


M 


A  DARING  BRAHMIN. 


309 


Is 
111 


the  influence  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ.  As  yet  the  great 
masses  of  Hindus  are  bound  hand  and  foot  by  the  fetters 
of  their  caste  system,  which  is  more  inexorable  than  any 
other  social  system  that  ever  existed,  probably,  in  the 
history  of  tlie  world.  But  it  is  interesting  to  notice  that 
these  shackles  are  giving  way. 

In  one  of  the  villages  of  Southern  India,  a  Brahmin,  who 
had  become  convinced  of  the  degrading  and  benumbing 
mfluences  of  his  people's  prejudices,  recently  advertised  pub- 
licly in  the  papers,  that  he  would  accejit  the  invitation  of 
any  cleanly  vegetarian  of  a  lower  caste  Avho  should  invite 
him  to  dine  with  him.  This  was  a  challenge  thrown  in  the 
very  teeth  of  public  opinion,  Not  long  after  it  Avas  accepted, 
and  a  loAV-class  Hindu  gave  an  invitation  to  the  Brah- 
min to  dine  with  him  at  his  house  in  Madras.  True  to  his 
word  the  Brahmin  accepted  the  invitation,  and  on  his  next 
visit  to  Madras,  where  his  profession  as  a  lawyer  frequently 
called  him,  he  dined  Avith  this  man  of  lower  caste,  not 
secretly,  but  in  the  most  public  Avay,  giving  notice  in  the 
papers  that  he  aa'ouUI  do  so,  and  inviting  other  Brahmins  to 
see  that  he  dared  to  resist  the  crushing  force  of  public 
opinion. 

Of  course,  he  Avas  reatl  out  of  their  synagogues,  his  Avife 
and  all  his  family  connections  left  him,  as  he  kncAv  they 
Avould;  eA^en  his  cook  refused  longer  to  prepare  his  food. 
For  tAvo  Aveeks  he  Avas  actually  obliged  to  live  on  milk  and 
plantains,  Avhicli  require  no  cooking. 

But  his  courageous  example  is  infectious,  and  two  other 
brave  Brahmins  in  his  native  city  haA^e  giA'en  notice  that  they 
are  Avilling  to  dine  Avith  him  Avhenever  he  returns  to  his 
home,  though  they  know  it  means  to  them  loss  of  caste, 
social  ostracism,  and  public  disgrace  in  the  eyes  of  all  their 
old  companions.     It  moans  that  their  Avives  Avill  leaA^e  them, 


310 


THE  BATTLE  AGAINST  CASTE  UEUUN. 


I 


■     I 


their  cooks  will  desert  them,  and  they  will  be  pnicticully 
outcast  wanderers  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  Xevertiieless, 
there  are  some  of  lln'se  men  who  are  willin/j^  to  endiwe 
this  ol)lo(|uy  for  the  saki;  of  fi-eeing  their  nation  from  the 
giUlin<^-  chains  which  enslave  her. 

In  on(^  of  th(;s(i  ])ublic  meetings  for  educated  Hindus  of 
which  I  have  spoken,  I  have  heai'd  a  JJj'ahmin  denounce  the 
caste  system  with  all  the  lire  and  fervency  and  elevation  of 
sentiment  that  a  devout  (Jhristian  missionary  could  use. 

The  sanu!  man,  Nayna  Sasti'i,  a  lawyer  of  Cud(lii])a,  who 
risked  his  all  in  dining  with  a  lower  caste  family,  lias  since 
issued  several  Social  lleform  pamphlets,  which  are  well 
worth  ])erusal  by  Englishmen  and  Hindus  alike,  for  the 
sake  of  the  high  moral  sentiments  which  they  inculcate. 

All  honoi'  to  such  brave  men  wherever  we  find  them. 
The  nuirtyr  spii'it  is  not  yet  dead  in  the  world.  There  are 
some  anumg  the  Brahmins  who  will  not  bow  the  knee  to 
the  Baal  of  caste.  Thaidv  (iod  for  the  courageous  and  heroic 
spirits  of  India.     May  their  number  nmltii)ly. 


CIIAITEU  XVII. 


FAMorS  CITIKS  OF  SOUTIIKHN  INDIA. 

A  Fiisciiiiitiiif,'  liiiiid  —  (Joi-frcou.H  llcathciiisin  —  Tatt(»i>  Marks  and  Sacred 
AsIkss— A  Man  of  llic  Thief  Caste  — A  Robber  Villa;,^e —Calling  tliu 
|{oll  of  Thiuvos  — The  Thief  Mithileinun  —  The  Women  at  the  Well — 
'I'lie  (Jreasy  Faiiir  —  I'ayin^''  Him  for  Driftiiiff  lo  liceward — Hlood- 
eiinilin;^  Annonnceinents  —  A  nia;:;nitieenl  Teni|ile  —  'I'wenly  live  Mill- 
ions of  Dollars  —  Dusty  (Jods  and  Goddesses —The  Holy  of  IIoIi(!s  — A 
Stone  Hull  in  a  Stone  Math  Tub  — The  (}od's  Hath  — A  IJeautifid  Pal- 
ace—The  Temple  of  Tanjore  —  Filthy  Water  as  a  I'urilier  of  Sins  — 
The  Last  Hajah  and  His  Wives  — A  Weddin,'.-;  Procession  —  The  Kick- 
inf,r  Capacities  of  an  Old  Smooth  IJon — Vellore  and  its  Temple  —  Sus- 
pense and  Terror  —  A  Mrave  l{escue— The  (Jallant  Horses —Tipi)00 
Sahib's  Relatives —  The  Madras  Hunt  — The  Punkah  WaHah. 


I  VEX  tlio  most  vi<^orous  traveler 
would  Mud  it  ditllcidt  to  exi)loro 
every  iiit(n'estin<^  city  of  this  iiiar- 
vohmsly  fiisciiKitin<r  Ijuidof  India. 
I  must  l)(,i  content  to  tala;  my 
I'cadei's  to  a  few  of  the  jjlaces 
which  li;iv(;  most  intei'estcd  me. 
Not  always  ai'e  tiiey  i\w  "sh(jw 
phices "  of  India,  or  tiiose  over 
wiiich  th(!  travehM'  always  o'oos 
into  raptures ;  these  |)iac('s  yon 
will  lind  described  in  scores  of 
books  of  trav<'l,  iiiid  I  may  well  leave  them  to  those  who  are 
most  im|)ressed  hy  their  wonders  and  beauties,  while  I  de- 
scribe those  which  have  most  strono-ly  appealed  to  me. 

The  city  of  Madura,  to  my  mind,  is  one  of  the  most  inter- 

(311) 


11    I 


312 


THE  SIGN  UPON  THE  FOREHEAD. 


I 
I 

I!   f 

11  111 


.  <  ■ 


i  :i! 


esting  cities  in  all  India.  Hero  we  find  the  people  in  all  tlio 
gor<;'eousness  of  their  native  costumes,  sj)lendi(lly  bejeweled, 
and  bedecked,  and  becrinisoned  with  the  gay  cloths  wliich 
thev  wear  in  most  pictures(jue  fashion.  Here,  too,  the  deg- 
radation of  heathen  worship  is  seen  as  perhaps  nowhere  else 
in  India. 

In  tiie  North,  Brahminism  seems  to  be  a  more  refined 
and  occult  religion  than  in  the  South.  In  the  South  the 
religious  doctrines  appeal  to  the  senses,  and  the  magnificent 
temples  and  innumerable  gods  which  are  everywhere  wor- 
shiped, tell  of  centuries  of  idolatry  and  superstition. 

As  one  walks  along  the  street,  he  is  struck  not  only  by 
the  costumes,  but  bv  the  tattoo  marks  and  bv  the  si<>ns  on 
the  foreheads  of  the  people  whom  he  meets,  which  tell  of 
the  god  they  worship  and  of  the  caste  to  which  they  belong. 
Each  morning  they  smear  their  foreheads  with  sacred  ashes 
in  red  or  white  or  blue,  and  sometimes  Avitli  a  combination 
of  all  the  colors.  Many  wear  a  single  spot  just  above  the 
bridge  of  the  nose.  Others  bedeck  themselves  with  three 
lines  running  from  their  eyebrows  to  their  hair,  while  the 
foreheads  of  others  are  decorated  transversely  from  temple 
to  temple  with  the  sacred  ashes  mingled  with  oil.  One  who 
has  lived  long  in  the  country  and  has  become  expert  in  the 
signs  on  the  forehead,  can  tell  at  a  glance  to  what  great 
caste  each  man  belongs,  though  it  is  impossiljlo  to  distinguish 
the  minor  castes,  as  they  are  almost  numberless. 

As  I  was  sitting  in  a  mission  bungalow  one  day,  a  bright, 
intelligent  Hindu  entered  the  door,  and  spoke  to  the  mis- 
sionary in  charge  in  regard  to  some  church  work  which  had 
been  committed  to  him.  As  he  went  out,  my  friend  said  to 
me,  "  That  man  belongs  to  the  thief  caste."  I  was  quite  sur- 
prised at  this  piece  of  infoi'ination,  for  the  man  a])])eared  to 
me  to  be    a  very  respectable  citizen,  and  he  was  clad  in 


A  CONVERTED   THIEF. 


313 


snow-white  cloth  and  spotless  turban.  Instead  of  playing 
the  thief  on  this  occasion  he  made  nie  a  most  respectful 
*'  salaam,"  as  he  came  into  the  room,  laying  the  flat  of  his 
hand  against  his  forehead,  and  then  very  courteously  stated 
his  business,  not  attempting  to  deprive  me  or  my  friend  of 
any  of  our  possessions. 

Before  he  departed  he  i)laced  a  little  lime,  the  symbol  of 
friendship  and  good  will,  in  the  palm  of  my  hand  and  then  re- 
spectfully retired.  "  That  man  belongs  to  the  robber  caste," 
said  my  friend.  "  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ? "  I  asked. 
"  Just  what  I  say,"  he  replied.  "  He  is  a  Christian  man 
now,  and  since  his  conversion  he  has  had  nothing  of  the  thief 
in  his  nature,  having  ])ut  aside  the  '  works  of  darkness.' 
But  it  is  none  the  less  true  that  he  belongs  to  the  thief  caste 
and  lives  in  the  village  where  all  the  iniiabitants  belong  to 
the  same  caste.  Some  years  since  we  established  a  mission 
for  them  m  that  village,  a  number  have  left  their  thieving 
practices,  but  the  great  majority  of  the  inhabitants  still  con- 
tinue in  their  former  evil  ways.  The  reputation  of  this  vil- 
lage is  so  bad,  that  every  night  at  midniglit  the  police  call 
the  roll  of  ever\'  adult  male  citizen,  and  every  man  of  them 
must  answer  to  his  name  at  the  roll  call,  and  show  that  he 
is  in  his  own  proper  habitation  at  the  hour  of  midnight. 
But  they  are  wily  fellows,"  continued  my  friend,  "  and  as 
soon  as  the  police  insj)ection  is  over  and  they  have  answered 
to  their  names,  they  are  off  on  their  marauding  expeditions 
•once  more." 

"  Nearly  ever}'-  native  house  in  IVfadura  pays  tribute  to 
this  caste,"  he  went  on  to  say.  "  They  go  around  at  stated 
intervals,  demanding  a  rupee  or  some  small  piece  of  money. 
If  the  tax  is  not  paid  by  the  houselu^ld  on  Avhom  the  demand 
is  made,  soon  it  is  found  that  a  cow  is  missing,  or  a  bullock 
is  hamstrung,  or  that  in  some  way  their  property  has  suf- 


I 


314 


PAYIN<J    TKIIUTK  TO    K(HU$KRS. 


! 


I 


foivd  (lainii;^f(\"  "  I'lit  why  <lo  tlicy  iu»t  ;i|>|)l.v  to  tli(^  police  if" 
J  aslv«'(l.  "  Oh  I  "  suid  my  IVicrid,  "  the  polin;  Jii'i;  ortcntiines 
corrupt  and  in  h'a<:;iic  witli  the  rohhcrs  thciiisclvcs,  and  it  is 
Tnoi'i!  ti'ouhhi  and  annoyanci!  to  .seek  the  aid  of  the  police,  or 
to  go  to  law  ahoiit  thcii*  loss,  than  it  is  to  pay  the  small  trib- 
ute demandi'd  hv  the  thieves.  When  anvthin<''  is  niissinif, 
the  natives  ^o  to  the  middlemen  who  ahound  in  these  vil- 
lages of  the  thiel"  caste,  and  for  one-third  of  the  actual  ))ric(;  of 
the  missing  article  they  buy  it  hack.  For  instance,  if  a  cow 
valued  at  thirty  rupees  ib  stolen,  the  owner  knows  that  ten 
rupees  I'ansom  nu)iu'y  paid  to  th(!  middleman  will  secure 
the  cow.  To  api)ly  to  the  ])olice  and  go  through  the  tedious 
operations  of  law  in  getting  back  their  property,  Wi^uld  cost 
so  much  moi'e,  that  the  middleinan\s  services  are  usually 
employed,  demoralizing  as  the  efl'ect  irmst  be  u])on  the  peo- 
ple who  are  subject  to  such  extortions." 

One  of  the  characteristic  sights  of  Madura,  as  of  all  other 
cities  of  Southern  India,  is  that  of  tlu;  wonu^n  at  the  well 
with  bright  brass  water  jars,  which  they  ai'e  idling  at  the 
])ui)lic  fountain,  aiul  wliich  they  then  carry  home  on  their 
heads  oi'  in  a  bask(!t  of  braid(Ml  rope. 

How  often  this  scene  has  reminded  us  of  oui*  ^Master's 
conv(irsation  with  the  woman  of  Samaria  as  lie  uiet  her 
drawing  water  for  her  family  needs,  in  just  the  same  way  so 
many  hundi'eds  of  years  ago. 

Another  common  sight  is  that  of  the  religious  mendicants 
or  fakirs,  who  adopt  every  conceivable  method  of  attracting 
attention. 

llei'(!  is  one  with  long  hair,  whose  greasy,  dii'ty  I'inglets 
reach  to  his  very  toes.  Another  with  lilthy,  matted  hair 
thrusts  himself  ujjon  you  ho])ing  that  his  v<My  olfensiveness 
will  lead  you  to  buy  him  otf  and  pay  him  for  getting  well  to 
the  leeward. 


Wu, 


; 


'( 


li 


I 


li  ^■•' ' 


3    .  a 


=  a 


1  HI 

S    "    V 


ill 


—  ■-  .=  o 

-  .5  =  a 


Mil 

•-    ^  ^  a 

''■     i  §  ^  „ 


C     ~  ~    ^'  3 

>r     i  3  -r  p 

<  r.  3  .-  "^ 

7  T   i>  O 

<  .i   i  ■=  !? 


t^.  •/.•::  — 


^    ^  a. 


I' 


r>"?i 


^^^1^ 


SNAKE   CHARMERS   OF   INDIA. 


317 


?  •;■  a 

-  =  o. 

V   =  O 


,^ 


C    i    C    C 

liri.£ 

1 3  s  ^  .Si 


—  >,  a 


Z  i^-= 


Hero  is  another  with  a  tomtom  and  a  curious  one- 
strinmnl  l'nU\k\  nuilvin<''  wliat  ho  calls  music,  but  what  anv 
other  pei'son  would  call  the  essence  of  hideous  noise.  Hero 
is  a  snake  charmer  with  a  basket  of  wri<^'^ling,  writhin^^  red- 
ton<,nied  reptiles  (m  his  head,  lie  will  sometimes  open  this 
in  close  proximity  to  your  very  eyes,  and  you  involuntarily 
start  back  amazed  and  disgusted  at  the  contents  of  his 
basket. 

"If  this  snake  should  bite  you."  said  one  of  these  <,^entry, 
at  the  same  time  opening  one  of  the  baskets,  "you  will  die 
in  fifteen  minutes.  If  this  one  should  bite  you,"  opening 
another  basket,  "you  will  die  in  ten  minutes."  ()[)ening 
still  another  basket,  he  remarked  coolly,  "If  he  should  bite 
you,  you  Avill  die  in  live  minutes,"  and  still  another  basket 
was  opened  with  the  blood-curdling  announcement,  "If  this 
one  should  bite  you,  you  will  die  in  one  minute."  Bv  this 
time  my  friend  I'.xd  gotten  almost  out  of  sight  and  hearing, 
for  he  did  not  care  to  try  an\'  exi)eriments  in  the  interests  of 
science. 

The  temple  of  Madura  is  probably  the  most  magnificent 
in  Southern  India,  as  it  is  certainly  the  largest  which  can  be 
found  in  any  part  of  this  land  of  temples.  It  is  impossible 
to  describe  the  thousands  and  thousands  of  sculptured  ]nllars, 
the  beautiful  tessellated  pavements,  the  painted  ceilings,  and 
the  rich  ornamental  stone-work  which  abounds  everywhere. 
Tlie  mind  is  confused  by  the  very  richness  and  gorgeousness  of 
the  effect,  while  at  the  same  time  one  is  tem})ted  to  laugh  at 
the  grotesqueness  and  weep  over  the  indecency  of  many  of 
the  figures. 

The  great  towers  or  gopurams  of  this  temple  are  covered 
with  most  elaborate  figures  in  stone.  This  mighty  monu- 
ment of  heathenism  is  said  to  have  cost  live  millions  of 
pounds  sterling,  or  twenty-live  millions  of  dollars.     The  outer 


1  1' 


318 


GRIMY   GODS   AND   THEIR   GRIMY   WORSHIPERS. 


!    { 


court  of  the  temple  is  occupied  by  lliose  who  buy  and  sell 
and  get  gain,  as  the  Jews  of  old  plied  their  business  in  the 

tenij)le  courts  of  Je- 
rusalem. But  there 
is  no  occasion  for  a 
divine  reformer  with 
a  scourge  of  small 
cords  to  drive  out 
these  traffickers,  for 
the  Av  o  r  s  h  i  p  that 
goes  on  within  the 
Holy  of  Holies  is 
more  degrading  than 
the  business  of  the 
outer  corridors.  It 
contains  no  spiritual 
element.  Various 
gods  and  goddesses 
are  seen  in  dusty  lit- 
tle niches,  dripping 
with  oil  and  grease, 
and  llltby  with  the 
dust  of  tigcs,  while 
before  tlicm  is  some 
tinn^s  prostrated  a  de- 
vout worslii})er  al- 
3'/,  most  as  flltliv  and  as 
greasy  as  the  gods 
themselves. 

But  for  tbe  most 
part  I  saw  little  re- 
spect paid  to  the  temple  or  the  gods  of  the  tern])le  by  the 
people  who  Avere  roaming  through  its  aisles.    If  they  re- 


THE  GREAT   TEMPI  >     OK  SIADUUA. 


A  CHARACTERISTIC   DIVINITY. 


310 


garded  the  place  as  sacred,  they  kept  their  opinions  very- 
much  to  themselves,  for  it  seemed  to  have  little  more  sanc- 
tity for  those  whose  religion  was  here  embodied,  than  it 
had  for  us  of  Western  education  who  regarded  it  as  repre- 
senting gross  superstitions  and  abominable  idolatry. 

In  the  very  Holy  of  Holies,  where  the  chiaf  god  has  his 
habitation,  no  stranger  is  allowed  to  go,  but  as  we  wandered 


THE  PAINTED   COKUIDOU   IN    THE   TKMPI.E   OK   MADITRA. 


about  the  temple  the  High  Priest,  Avith  a  numerous  retinue 
before  and  b oliind,  passed  on  into  this  holy  place. 

In  the  center  of  the  temple  is  a  stone  bull,  which  is  the 
characteristic  divinity  of  Southern  India.  Tiiis  particular 
bull  sits  in  a  stone  bath  tub,  which  was  built  around  him  at 
the  time  of  the  last  great  famine  in  1877,  in  the  hope,  I 
suppose,  that  if  he  sat  in  the  water  himself  he  Avould  cause 
the  rains  to  descend  upon  the  parched  fields  over  which  he 
presided  as  the  tutelary  divinity.     His  tub  has  remained 


320 


AN  IDOL  S   YEARLY   OUTING. 


N; 


there  ever  since,  tliougii  when  I  sa\v  it  it  was  very  dry  and 
dusty. 

In  another  part  of  Madura  is  a  vast  sacred  tank,  Avhich 
hokls  a  hirge  amount  of  Avater,  In  the  middle  of  this 
artificial  lake  is  a  beautiful  little  island  containing  a  most 
elaborate  and  costly  temple.  To  this  temple,  once  a  year, 
over  the  green  and  slimy  Avaters  of  the  tank,  the  chief  god 
of  the  Madura  temple  is  carried  in  great  state  on  a  raft. 
This  great  event  causes  a  vast  commotion  among  the  people, 
Avho  flock  to  see  the  god  take  his  yearly  airing,  his  ride  on 
a  raft  to  the  temple  and,  if  I  mistake  not,  his  bath  in  the 


THE  SACKED  TANK   OP   MADUUA. 


fi! 


sacred  tank.  Certainly  all  the  gods  that  I  saw  in  the 
Madura  temple  looked  as  if  they  were  sadly  in  need  of  at 
least  an  annual  bath. 

The  palace  of  Madura  is  another  building  remarkable 
for  its  architectural  grandeur  and  imposing  effect.  It  rivals, 
in  my  opinion,  the  Vatican  of  Rome.  In  fact,  I  have  rarely 
seen  in  any  land  a  building  which  so  impressed  me  with  its 
lofty  arches  and  its  noble  Byzantine  columns. 

It  is  supposed  that  a  Mahommedan  architect  must  have 
designed  this  building  for  the  immensely  wealthy  rajah 
who  erected  the  temple  antl  the  palace.  Now,  however, 
even  the  memory  of  the  architect,  who,  in  his  way,  must 
have  been  a  prince  of  the  guild,  has  passed  away.     The 


THE   TEMPLE   AT  TANJORE. 


331 


palace  is  no  longer  in  the  hands  of  the  family  that  built  it, 
but  is  occupied  by  the  British  government  for  its  court 
rooms  and  offices,  and  for  this  purpose  it  atfords  a  most 
admirable  building.  The  old  harem  of  the  king  is  now  one 
of  the  high  courts  of  the  Madura  district,  a  far  worthier  use 


INTEUIOK  OF   THR   GUKAT    PAI,ArF.   OK    MADURA. 

to  put  the  apartment  to  than  that  for  which  it  was  origin- 
ally designed. 

Another  interesting  city  of  Southern  India  is  Tanjore. 
Here,  too,  the  temple  is  tlie  great  attraction  of  the  place, 
though  not  so  vast  and  elaborate  as  the  temple  of  jVIadura. 
It  stands  by  itself  and  impresses  the  observer  by  its  solitary 
magnificence  more  than  the  swarming  towers  and  endless 


32-Z 


A   STATELY   TOWER. 


II 


I 


jjillars  and  corridors  of  tho  Madura  toinplo.  The  central 
tower  of  this  temple  is  2H0  feet  high,  and  covers  tlie  holy 
of  holies  in  which  is  the  chief  idol.  This  central  tower  is,  to 
my  mind,  the  most  magnificent  piece  of  architecture  which 
I  have  seen  in  Southern  India.  Next  to  the  Taj  JVIahal,  per- 
haps, it  Avill  take  the  palm  from  all  other  architectui'al 
wonders  of  the  em})ire.  So  symmetrical  is  it,  that  its 
shadow  at  noon  does  not  projc^ct  beyond  its  base,  and  the 
tradition  is,  as  our  guide  told  us  in  his  broken  Englisii,  that 
"it  never  cast  a  sluuhnv,"  but  this  perpetual  miracle  is  not 
borne  out  by  the  facts  of  the  case. 

At  tlie  to]>  of  the  tower  is  a  huge  dome,  a  solid  granite 
block.  How  it  could  ever  be  placed  in  such  a  position  is 
beyond  my  concc])tion.  Tradition  says  that  an  inclined 
plane  five  miles  in  length  was  built,  up  Avhich  the  stone 
was  rolled  by  forced  labor.  Everything  about  this  gopuram 
from  base  to  pinnacle  is  of  granite,  sculptured  in  the  most 
elaborate  way,  Avith  figures  of  men,  animals,  gods,  and 
demons.  One  of  these  figures  is  sometimes  called  ",Tohn 
Bright."  It  represents  a  man  of  European  tyj)e  of  counte- 
nance, with  an  unmistakable  English  hat  on  his  head.  The 
tradition  for  many  years  before  the  British  occupancy  was. 
that  men  with  such  features  and  such  "tiles"  on  their  heads- 
would  sometime  concpier  and  bear  sway  over  India. 

Some  have  supposed  that  this  figure  represents  the 
famous  traveler,  Marco  Polo.  We  found  Marco  Polo  among- 
the  live  hundred  lUiddhists'  effigies  in  the  great  tem])le  of 
C/anton.  Here  we  lind  his  possible  effigy  in  Scjuthern  India. 
These  traditions  show  at  least  how  this  enterprising  traveler 
affected  the  imjigination  of  many  nations. 

Of  course  we  saw  here  the  famous  Nandi,  the  sacred 
bull  of  Siva,  in  this  temple  as  in  others.  This  bull  is  the 
biggest  and  most  remarkable  of  all  his  stony  companions. 


NANDI,    THP]   SACRED   BULL. 


;}-^3 


He  is  sixteen  feet  l()ii<j;'  and  twelve  leet  lii^li,  and  is  senlpt- 
ured  iVoni  a  singie  l)l()ck  of  syenite.  He  is  daily  anointed 
with  oil,  and,  as  the  dust  aceunudates  u[)on  his  i)aek,  he 
is  anytinng'  but  a  pleasant  and  wholesome  object  to  look 
upon.  The  hut>('  stone  from  which  he  is  carved  wei<^'hs  hun- 
dreds of  tons  av.d  ,nuist  liave  been  brought  at  least  four 
hundred  miles,  I'or  there  is  no  stone  of  this  description 
within  this  distance  from  Tanjore. 

A  sculptured  water-spout  in  aiujther  part  (jf  the  temjjle, 


"m-i 


>oniiiiiuiiiii||iii<iiiVMLlilMU'(iimiM)t|Bi<t'r<M\iii)imiiiwuiiiiwniii,iu 

TlllO    SACUKU   liVl.L  OK   SIVA. 


brings  the  greasy  water  which  is  ])onred  over  the  })rincipal 
idol  which  has  his  habitation  in  the  most  hidden  recesses  of 
the  tem])le  visited  only  by  the  high  ])riests,  out  to  the  light 
of  day,  and  this  water  is  eagerly  caught  and  drank  by  hun- 
dreds of  devout  worshij)ers.  Loathsome  anil  impure  as  it 
looks,  this  Avater  is  supposed  to  purify  them  from  all  their 
sins.  One  would  rather  suppose  that  it  would  breed  all 
sorts  of  noxious  disease. 

There  are  other  intei'esting  sights  in  Tanjore  besides  the 
temple.  The  palace  of  the  foi'mer  king  of  Tanjore  is  well 
-worth  visiting.     Kather  a  dilapidated  athur  it  is  at  j)resent, 


324 


A  DILAPIDATED  PALACE  AND  USELESS  GUN. 


IS    ll'i 


I' 


'  f 


I 


and  even  in  its  best  estate  it  must  have  been  somewhat 
tawdry  in  its  decorations,  but  it  is  vast  in  its  circumference 
and  substantial  in  its  architecture,  and  not  unimposing. 
Here,  to  tliis  day  (though  the  hist  rajah  died  tliii'ty-seven 
years  ago),  still  live  some  of  his  many  wives  and  concubines. 
The  wives  still  have  a'monthlv  allowance  of  ei":lit  hundred 
rupees  from  the  old  estate,  and  the  concubines  a  grant  of 
two  hundred  rupees  a  month. 

AVe  saw  the  place  where  the  women  were  confined, 
though  we  did  not  see  the  aged  matrons  themselves.  One 
of  them,  formerly  the  chief  wife,  is  now  about  sixty  years  of 
age,  and  the  younger  ones,  who  as  mere  children  were 
betrothed  to  the  rajah,  may  still  have  many  years  to  live, 
though  their  husband  has  been  dead  for  nearly  two  scores 
of  summers.  The  father  of  the  last  rajah  was  a  noted  man 
in  Tanjore;  a  man  of  great  strength  of  character  and 
ability,  which  Avas  not  inherited  by  his  son.  This  old  rajah 
was  a  friend  of  the  celebrated  English  missionary,  Schvv'artz, 
who  is  buried  in  an  old  church  near  by,  and  Avho,  more  than 
almost  any  other  man  of  his  time,  furthered  the  establish- 
ment of  the  English  government  and  of  English  civilization 
in  the  land  to  which  he  had  devoted  his  life. 

Our  vivacious  guide,  anxious  to  please  and  to  earn  his 
salary  of  a  rupee  for  his  day's  work,  then  took  us  to  the  big 
gun  of  Tanjore.  It  is  a  monster,  indeed,  but  about  as  useless 
as  any  Quaker  gun  that  Avas  ever  bored  out  of  a  big  cotton- 
wood.  This  cannon  is  more  than  twenty-four  feet  long, 
made  with  huge  rings  of  iron  welded  together  with  brass. 
Its  circumference  is  more  than  ten  feet  and  its  bore  two  feet 
two  inches.  In  all  its  history  it  was  never  fired  but  once, 
and  then  so  frightened  Avere  the  gunners  and  so  convinced 
were  they  of  the  kicking  capacities  of  their  old  smooth-bore, 
that  they  laid  a  train  of  poAvder  tAVO  miles  long,  which  took 


liki  lik 


THE   SCENE   OF  A   FAMOUS   MUTINY. 


325 


forty  minutes  to  burn  to  the  gun.  That  was  the  first  and 
last  time  that  the  ancient  cannon  Avas  used.  Since  then  it 
has  been  worshiped  as  a  god  in  times  of  peril.  It  now 
brings  to  the  guides  and  its  keeper  some  small  revenue  as  an 
object  which  every  traveler  must  see,  and  is  probably  quite 
as  useful  as  ever  it  was  in  its  peaceful  and  uneventful  life. 

Another  interesting  town  of  Southern  India  is  Yellore. 
It  is  probably  little  visited  by  the  average  traveler,  but  as  a 
city  of  missionary  work  it  is  of  decided  interest,  and  also  for 
its  historic  associations,  which  are  Avell  worth  recording. 
Here,  also,  is  found  a  famous  old  temple,  now  entirely 
deserted  save  by  owls  and  bats,  its  silence  never  broken  by 
the  footfall  of  a  single  Avorshijier.  But  most  interesting  to 
me  was  the  old  fort  of  Yellore,  which  was  the  scene,  many 
years  ago,  of  one  of  the  mutinous  uprisings  of  Southern 
India.  The  English  officers  and  their  Avives  who  were  sta- 
tioned here  were  surprised  and  overpowered,  and  confined  in 
tlie  narrow  room  over  the  gatcAvay  of  the  fort.  Here  they 
Avaited  their  expected  doom  in  fear  and  tremblir-'-  Their 
captors,  however,  before  putting  them  to  death  could  not  re- 
strain their  desire  to  sack  the  fort  and  make  Avay  Avith  the 
gastronomic  dainties  Avhich  they  found  therein.  While  they 
Avere  rioting  amid  the  unaccustomed  luxuries  of  the  officers' 
quarters,  one  of  the  beleaguered  prisoners  Avas  let  doAvn  OA'er 
the  Avail,  and,  making  his  way  stealthily  from  the  fortress, 
ran  Avitli  all  his  miglit  to  the  nearest  garrison,  which  Avas 
stationed  at  Eanipet,  some  fourteen  miles  aAvay.  It  Avas  a 
long,  hard  road,  but  the  man  was  running  for  his  life  and  for 
the  liA^es  of  all  his  companions,  and,  breathless  and  excited, 
he  at  last  reached  the  garrison  at  Eanipet.  In  a  few  seconds 
the  troops  Avere  all  in  their  saddles,  galloping  as  fast  as  their 
steeds  could  carry  them  to  the  rescue  of  their  companions. 
Vellore  was  fourteen  miles  aAvay ;  the  road  Avas  by  no  means 


32G 


THE  WELCOME  SOUND  OF  TRAMPLING   HOOFS. 


I  'I 


ii 


an  easy  one ;  the  bed  of  a  sandy  river  a  mile  and  a  Iiall'  in 
■width  must  be  crossed;  the  sand  was  ankle  deep,  and  was 
very  dilficult  for  the  horses.  JUit  the  good  steeds  and  their 
ridei's  ])ressed  on,  for  they  knew  that  a  minute  of  delay 
might  mean  death  to  all  their  friends  at  Vellore.  The  be- 
leaguered })risoners  in  the  room  oyer  the  gateway  counted 
the  slow  minutes  as  tlie}"^  dragged  on.  The}'  knew  that  soon 
the  rioters  would  be  satiated  with  their  ])1  under,  and  Avould 
return  to  massacre  them  in  their  cell-like  prison.  They 
could  not  count  upon  many  minutes  of  resj)ite.  They  heard 
their  keepers  discussing  how  they  should  be  put  to  death. 
They  knew  they  were  about  to  fall  upon  them  and  cut  them 
to  pieces  without  mercy,  when,  in  the  far  distance,  they 
thought  they  heard  the  hoofs  of  advancing  horses.  Xearer 
and  nearer  came  the  rescuing  troops.  The  sound  of  tramping 
feet  was  never  more  grateful  to  strained  and  wearied  ears. 
At  last  the  horsemen  Avere  seen  galloping  along  the  road  which 
led  to  the  castle  gate.  They  i)ressed  into  the  courtyard  and 
cut  to  pieces  the  mutineers  Avho  were  about  to  crimson  their 
blades  Avith  the  blood  of  their  officers.  Scarcely  a  man 
among  the  mutineers  Avas  left  to  tell  the  tale,  but  the  officers 
and  their  Avives  in  the  room  over  the  gatcAvay  Avere  saA'^ed ;  and, 
as  they  looked  at  their  Avatches  to  see  hoAV  long  the  rescuing 
troops  had  been  in  coming  to  their  relief,  it  Avas  found  that  it 
Avas  just  fifty  minutes  from  the  time  that  they  vaulted  into 
the  saddle  at  Eanipet  to  the  moment  that  they  Avere  at  the 
gates  of  the  castle  of  Yellore.  They  had  ridden  fourteen 
miles,  a  Avide  river  bed  had  been  crossed,  their  companions 
rescued,  and  their  enemies  ])ut  to  flight  all  Avithin  an  hour. 
Xo  Avonder  that  a  full  share  of  praise  Avas  bestoAved  upon  the 
gallant  horses,  panting  and  reeking  Avith  their  hard  gallop 
across  the  hot  plains  under  the  broiling  sun  of  India. 

As  I  look  upon  this  fortress,  Avhich  noAv  is  quite  deserted 


THE  CRUMBLING  FORT  OF  ARCOT. 


337 


of  all  its  tr<)oj)s,  and  saw  the  wido  moat  around  it,  which 
formerly  was  filled  Avith  hungry  alligators  who  snapped  up 
any  besieger  who  attempted  thus  to  get  within  tlie  castle 
gateway,  the  whole  scene  seemed  to  pass  before  me,  and  I 
could  almost  see  the  strained  and.  eager  faces  of  the  beleag- 
uered families  lookin/.^-  through  the  barred  gateway.  I 
could  almost  hear  the  wild  tramp  of  the  rescuing  troops. 

To  this  day,  the  relatives  of  Tippoo  Sahib,  the  famous 
mutineer,  though  he  was  not  implicated  in  the  outrage  I 
have  described,  are  confined  in  the  jail  within  the  confines 
of  this  old  castle. 

Another  most  interesting  town  of  this  region  is  the 
famous  old  capital  of  Arcot.  Now  it  is  a  decadent  city  and 
the  fort  itself,  so  bravely  captured  and  held  by  Clive,  is 
quite  deserted  and  is  crumbling  to  ruins.  The  massive 
masonry  of  the  old  fort,  which  looks  as  though  it  was  built 
for  all  the  centuries,  is  gnawed  in  many  places  by  the  re- 
morseless tooth  of  time.  But  it  still  shows  in  its  massive 
ruo'o-edness  what  it  must  have  been  in  the  middle  of  the 
eighteentli  century,  when  it  was  taken  by  the  brave  young 
clerk  from  IMadras,  Avho  afterwards  became  Lord  Clive,  the 
man  who  establislied  British  supremacy  throughout  India. 

Clive  seems  to  have  had  the  faculty  possessed  by  Napo- 
leon and  Alexander,  of  inspiring  unbounded  confidence  in 
those  under  his  command.  Even  the  native  troops  acknowl- 
edged this  mighty  supremacy,  and  were  ready  to  lay  down 
their  lives  to  obey  his  slightest  behest.  When  besieged  and 
sorely  pressed  by  the  French,  and  when  famine  stared  them 
in  the  face,  the  natives  came  to  him,  inspired  Avith  his  own 
valor,  and  said,  "Do  not  surrender;  we  will  live  on  the  very 
water  in  which  the  rice  is  cooked,  while  the  English  soldiers 
eat  the  rice,  if  you  will  but  hold  the  fort  against  our  com- 
mon enemy." 


328 


ON   A   SURF-BEATEN   SHORE. 


h   Hi 


>:     1: 


i! 


Si' 


SI      ': 


I 


i 


Such  valor  and  leadership  would  ])revail  anywiiere.  No 
wonder  that  by  such  men  as  Clive  and  Warren  Hastings, 
and  the  great  men  who  have  succeeded  tiiem,  the  English 
government  is  established  so  strongly  throughout  this  mighty 
empii-e.  The  paramount  importance  of  individual  leadershi)) 
was  never  more  distinctly  shown  than  in  the  history  of  the 
British  occupancy  of  India.     That  one  great  leader  is  worth 


•::r^-,..  I, 


m!:!^;$':' 


WEA\"ER8  IN  THE   BTUEET8  OF  MADKAS. 

a  hundred  thousand  men,  is  a  lesson  that  may  be  read  upon 
every  page  of  India's  history. 

The  place  from  which  most  travelers  in  Southern  India 
embark  for  the  North  is  the  city  of  Madras ;  a  great  metrop- 
olis with  nearly  a  million  of  inhabitants,  situated  on  the 
wind-swept  and  w^ave-beaten  Coromandel  coast.  Until  re- 
cently there  has  not  been  even  a  breakwater  to  partially 
defend  the  surf-washed  shore.    With  the  greatest  difficulty 


y  I 


A   DIFFICULT   LANDING   PLACE. 


339 


at  times  vessels  are  loaded  and  unloaded  even  with  the 
breakwater,  which  now  defends  the  urtiticial  harbor  to  some 
extent.  The  surf  beats  ui)on  the  shore  most  violently  when 
the  wind  is  in  certain  (quarters.  The  travelers  who  are 
about  to  embark  are  still  borne  upon  the  brawny  shoulders 
of  coolies,  and  deposited  in  deep  native  boats,  Avhich  are 
composed  of  planks  bound  together  with  thongs  and  caulked 
with  cocoanut  libre,  in  which  no  niuls  or  rivets  are  used, 


Cnil.D  ON   A   LEAF   OF  THE   VICTOItlA   KEGIA. 

since  they  would  soon  be  wrenched  out  of  their  places  by 
the  butfetings  of  the  heavy  surf. 

Some  beautiful  government  Iniildings  there  are  in 
Madras;  the  law  courts  being  especially  line.  This  build- 
ing, designed  after  the  architecture  of  a  Maliommedan 
mosque,  is  crowded  with  minarets  and  domes  jirojecting 
from  every  angle.  But  this  s])lendid  structure,  and  a  few 
others  like  it,  only  emphasizes  and  makes  more  marked  the 
stjualor  of  the  native  section.  However,  the  clinuite  is  not 
severe.  Little  shelter  and  less  energy  are  required  in  order 
to  live ;  the  wants  of  the  people  are  few,  and  perhaps  they 


n 


330 


LIFE   IK   THE   STREETS   OF   MADRAS. 


tiJ 


iU'c  its  liiippv  as  tlicii-   iiioi'p   t'iiNoi'cd   c'()iii|)iiiii()iis  in  otlici' 
cities  and  clinics. 

Here  ill  tlic  tanks  and  rt.'scrvoirs  ar(»  found  not  only  the 
sacred  lotus  Howors  with  tiieir  In-oad  loaves,  but  the  \'ic- 
toria  Regia,  iiianv  of  which  are  quite  stron«^  and  lar<^e 
onoui'li  to  hold  a  cliihl  three  to  four  years  of  nm\  A  little 
brown-faced  i)aby,  when  wei«»hed,  tipped  the  scales  at  just 
twenty-ei<^ht  and  a  half  pounds,  and  the  leaf  n])on  which  ho 
sat  hardly  shiiiped  a  cupful  of  water  under  his  wei<^ht. 


THE   I'orCLAK    MADKAS    III  NT. 

In  the  streets  of  ^fadras  as  in  all  those  Eastern  cities 
may  be  seen  every  possible  occupation  gointr  on  before  the 
face  and  ey(^s  of  the  world.  Here  are  the  weavers  and  the 
carpenters  an<l  the  shoemakers  and  the  barbers,  and  every- 
where the  inevitable  throng-  of  loafers. 

It  is  not  at  all  nncommon  to  see  a  row  of  old  men  and 
"women,  and  younger  ones,  too,  for  that  matter,  sitting  in 
the  glaring  sunlight  engaged  in  ''the  Madras  hunt,"  where 
the  unhai)i)y  hunting  grounds  are  each  other's  heads. 

One  day  a  wedding  procession  passed  by.     Three  silent- 


^   '.  -i 


S'  H,  —    X 


i4i  i 


r/,  — 


t    <    ? 


3;  'i.    ^ 


5=5 


c  ;3 

li 

It 

«  sr* 


■  i 


1'  h' 


I     „ 


']■ 


ii 


"bratty"  makers  and  "punkah-wallahs.'      333 


treading',  knock-kneed,  ragged  camels  led  the  way,  covered 
with  bright  cloths  and  much  tinsel.  There  seemed  to  be 
little  merriment  or  life  about  the  procession,  and  I  presume 
the  poor  young  girl  who  was  going  to  the  home  of  her  aged 
husband,  whom  i)erhaps  she  had  never  seen,  felt  as  melan- 
choly as  the  solemn  ])rocession  seemed  to  indicate. 

The    extreme    pov- 
erty   of   the   people   is 
])erhai)s  nowhere  more   „ 
indicated  than   b}^  the  y, 
women  whose  business  i 
it  is  to  pick  up  every  f' 
particle  of  manure  from  ,, 
the  streets,  and  to  make 
it  into  fiat  cakes  ('"  Brat- 
ty"    as    it    is    called), 
which    they   dry   upon  M,^ 
the  sides  of  tiie  walls  ^Mi;'"^'- 
of  the  houses.     Then  it 
is  picked   off  and  sold 
for  fuel.      Hundreds  of 
these  women  with  high- 
])ilod    baskets    of    this 
fuel  are  met  with  every- 
where as  one  ffoes  about 


liUATTY        MAKINCi 


the  streets. 

The  "  punkaii- wallah,"  too,  or  tiie  num  wlu^  ])ulls  the 
huge  fans  with  which  every  olHce,  dining-room,  parlor,  and  • 
chui'ch  is  provided,  is  a  well-known  character  in  INiadras,  as 
in  all  Southern  India.  I  must  say  I  have  seen  days  in  Xew 
York  and  Boston  when  a  punkah  was  as  necessary  as  it 
ev^en  is  in  hot  ]\radras.  This  occu})ation  often  descends  from 
father  to  son,  for  many  generations,  and  the  true  punkah- 


f 


334 


EXTREMES  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE. 


wallah  by  instinct  and  training  becomes  so  expert  that, 
tying  the  string  to  his  toe,  he  will  go  to  sleep  and  still  keep 
jerking  away  at  the  cord  to  fan  the  hot  brows  of  the  Euro- 
peans within,  who  may  be  dining,  or  reading,  or  writing,  or 
sleeping,  as  the  case  may  be. 

In  the  streets  of  Madras  I  have  frequently  seen  the 
women  and  dogs  lying  together  in  the  glaring  bright  sun- 
light, one  apparently  as  happ}'^  and  as  unconscious  of  degra- 
dation as  the  other. 

On  the  other  hand,  many  among  these  people  are  well 
educated,  and  bright  and  intellectual.  The  nuignificent  law 
courts  are  crowded  with  native  lawyers,  Avho  are  as  fine 
a  body  of  men  in  their  gowns  and  wigs  as  can  be  met  with 
in  any  hall  of  justice  in  the  world. 

Nowhere  does  one  meet  with  greater  extremes  of  social 
life.  Nowhere  is  there  greater  need  or  greater  scope  for  the 
life-giving  religion  of  Christ  than  in  this  swarming  city  of 
India.  Here,  in  IVLadras,  I  am  glad  to  say  there  is  much 
missionary  activity.  In  some  parts  of  the  Presidency  the 
Telugu  people  are  flocking  to  the  standard  of  the  Cross 
by  tens  of  thousands,  and  it  seems  to  be  only  a  question 
of  time  when  the  Avails  of  caste  prejudice  shall  be  broken 
down  and  Avhen  the  empire  of  India  shall  take  its  place 
among  the  great  Christian  empires  of  the  world. 


•    CHAPTEE  XAaiL 

PEN  PICTURES  FROM  NORTHERN  INDIA. 

TJie  Mouth  of  the  IIoogly-A  Precuutioii-From  the  Parisian  to  the 
Pariah -The  Great  Banyan  of  the  Geographies  -  Ten  Thousand 
Troops  under  its  Shade -The  Burning  Gliat-A  Sidewalk  Barber's 
Shop  -  A  G'-astly  Group  -  Innumerable  Beggars  -  Religious  Parasites 

—  The  Old  Fakir's  Offering -The  Bathers  in  the  Ganges- A  Devoted 
Son -Dying  at  her  Leisure -A  Burning  Ghat  -  Decorations  after  tlie 
Bath -Burning  the  Dead -Hindu  Tlieologv- Towers  of  Silence - 
Dreary  Biers  and  Hungry  Vultures  — A  Cannibal  Feast  — The  Jews  of 
India  —  Why  Tliey  Give  their  Bodies  to  the  Vultures  —  The  Bondage  of 
Caste -Paying  Dear  for  liis  Dinners -A  Venerable  Bridegroom - 
Match  Makers  in  India -The  Stars  Favorable  and  ]\[arriages  Frequent 

—  A  Wedding  Procession  —  A  Pathetic  Mite  of  a  Bride  —A  Matter-of- 
fact  Wooer. 


I  ROM  Madras  to  Calcutta  the  voy- 
age is  comparatively  uninteresting 
until  one  draws  near  to  the  great 
political  Capital  of  India.     As  we 
near    the    mouth  of    the   IIooo-lv 
river,  one  of  the  great  Deltas  of  the 
Ganges,   which   i)ours    its    muddy 
watei's  into  the  Bay  of  Bengal,  for 
many  miles  the  eye  can  follow  the 
distinct    line    of    demarkation   be- 
tween the  fresh  Avater  of  the  sacred 
river  and  the  salt  Avater  of  the  bay. 
After  a  little  the  low  lino  of  palm  trees  on  one  side 
shows  that  we  have  entered  the  vast  and  capacious  mouth  of 
the  Hoogly,  which  of  all  rivers  is  most  difficult  of  navigation 
on  account  of  its  shifting  sands  and  its  treacherous  shoals. 

(335) 


33G  .  THE  MOTLEY    POPULATION   OF   CALCUTTA. 

"While  the  pjisseiigers  were  at  "tiffin"  the  stew.irds  closed 
all  the  ports  of  the  vessel,  and  Avhen  we  asked  the  reason  for 
this  sinnniarv  shutting  otf  of  our  supi)ly  of  fresh  air,  the 
captain  informed  us  that  we  would  have  a  better  chance  of 
escape  if  the  vessel  should  strike  a  sandbank  and  keel  over,  as 
more  than  one  vessel  had  been  known  to  do. 

A  distressing  disaster  of  this  kind  occurred  not  many 
months  since  when  all  the  passengers  were  below,  either 
in  tiieir  cabins  or  the  public  saloon,  and  many  of  them  were 
drowned  like  rats  in  their  holes. 

However,  a  good  Providence  favored  us,  no  accident  or 
delay  occurred,  and,  on  the  morning  of  the  3d  day  after 
leaving  Madras,  the  "  6/' i/*'(/M  "  steamed  up  to  her  dock  in 
the  busy  port  of  Calcutta. 

This  citv  is  one  of  the  most  interestini>-  in  all  the  East, 

/    interesting  not  solely  or  chieHy  on  account  of  its  s[)lendid 

/     government  buildings  or  fine  warehouses  or  expensive  docks, 

but  more  especially  to  the  traveler  because  of  its  conglomei'ate 

poi)ulati()n  of  every  shatle  and  color,  every  nationality  and 

1     costume  on  the  face  of  tlic  earth,  from  the  Parisian-clad 

European  to  the  Pariah  in  all  his  s(|ualid  nakedness. 

In  some  particulars  the  zoiilogical  gardens  in  Calcutta  are 

i     quite  beyond  any  of  their  European  rivals ;  the  collection  of 

,     parrots,  for  instance,  is  surprisingly  large,  their  plunuige 

most  gaudy ;    and  the  pigeons,  some  of  them  as  large  as 

Guinea  hens,  with  tufted  crests  and  fan-lilvc  toplcnots,  were 

the  most  uiii(pu>  I  have  ever  seen. 

The  botanical  mirdens  are  even  lar(>'er  and  finer  than  the 
zoiilogical.  The  most  interesting  feature  here  is  the  great 
banyan,  which  is  said  to  be  the  mo(l(>l  from  whicli  the 
banvan  of  the  old  "•eo<j:i'a|)liies  was  drawn.  It  is  stated  that 
10,000  troops  can  be  mustered  under  the  shade  of  this  tree. 
How  many  hundreds  of  thousands  of  school  boys  and  school 


THE  BANYAN  OF  OUR  SCHOOL  DAYS, 


337 


girls  have  in  imagination  gathered  beneath  its  umbrageous 
shade  it  Avouhl  be  inqxjssible  to  reckon. 

But  here  it  stands  just  as  it  k)oked  in  the  geograi)hy  of 
our  school  (hiys,  with  its  drooping  ])en(hints,  which,  after  a 
time,  take  root  and  deveh^p  into  huge  truidvs,  only  to  send 
out  other  ])en(lants,  which,  in  turn,  develop  into  other  trunks, 
and  so  on,  ad  injinitum.  There  seems  to  be  no  limit  to  the 
growth  of  a  well-developed  and  carefully  cultured  banvan 
tree.  Theoretically,  at  least,  it  might  cover  a  })rovince  or  a 
nation,  or  grow  indefinitely  until  it  reached  a  clinuite  or  a 
soil  in  Avhich  it  could  no  longer  flourish. 

The  '•  burning  ghat "  is  another  famous  place  in  the  en- 
virons of  Calcutta.  This  is  a  huge,  one-storied,  shed-like 
building,  in  which  the  bodies  of  deceased  Hindus  are 
burned.  As  this  particular  "ghat"  is  situated  on  the  banks 
of  the  sacred  Ganges  it  is  a  very  famous  one,  and  the  fires 
within  are  perpetually  kept  Inirning. 

Let  us  take  a  drive  there  this  bright  February  morninir. 
Our  little  party  will  just  fill  a  gharri,  one  of  the  character- 
istic veliicles  of  this  Eastern  land.  AVe  Avill  put  up  the 
blinds  on  every  side  so  that  we  can  look  out  in  every  direc- 
tion, and  miss  none  of  the  sights  and  bits  of  sr^nery  which 
are  sure  to  greet  our  e\'es. 

The  sun  has  just  risen,  for  the  early  morning  is  the  best 
time  to  visit  the  gliat.  The  jworer  part  of  the  native  popula- 
tion is  shaking  itself  awake  after  the  slumbers  of  the  night. 
It  does  not  take  the  poor  peoi)le  of  Calcutta  long  to  make 
their  toilets.  Tlieir  mats  are  spread  in  little  recesses  from 
the  sidewalks  which  they  call  their  homes,  and  all  that  is 
necessary  for  them  to  do  in  the  morning,  is  to  straighten  up 
from  their  recumbent  jjosition,  roll  up  their  mats,  Avash 
their  faces  at  the  nearest  fountain  or  public  faucet,  or,  in 
default  of  one  of  these,  at  the  nearest  pool  of  stagnant  water 


>  if: 


i 


338 


ON  THE  WAY  TO  THE  BURNING  GHAT. 


or  mnd  piuldle.  They  seemed  to  take  great  pains  with  their 
teeth,  and  we  see  scores  of  them  this  early  morning  hrushing 
and  washing  their  mouths  most  assiduously ;  the  bright, 
brass  water  jars  near  by  holding  the  little  water  that  is  nec- 
essary for  this  internal  ablution. 

Even  at  this  early  morning  hour,  Calcutta's  swarming 
myriads  are  beginning  their  daily  toil.  Shop  doors  are 
opening,  early  birds  are  looking  for  the  unwary  worms,  and 
the  bustle  and  hum  of  life  begins.     Here,  for  instance,  quite 


A  CALCUTTA    BARBER   SHOP. 


on  the  sidewalk,  a  Hindu  barber,  in  Avhite  cloth  and  turban, 
is  sitting  on  his  haunches,  assiduously  scraping  off  the  hirsute 
growth  of  another  Hindu  Avho,  during  the  operation,  gazes 
on  his  own  homely  face  in  a  glass  which  he  himself  holds. 
Could  a  more  uncomfortable  barber's  chair  be  imagined  ? 

As  we  draw  near  to  the  sacred  Ganges,  the  crowd  of  pil- 
grims that  is  also  wending  its  way  thither  grows  larger, 
more  cosmopolitan  and  more  interesting.  Here  are  Hindus 
from  every  part  of  India  and  of  every  conceivable  caste. 
Here  are  fakirs  whose  holiness  and  sanctity  are  measured  by 


A   PARADISE   OF  TRAMPS   AND    MENDICANTS. 


339 


the  length  of  their  hair,  and  apparently,  by  the  thickness  of 
the  coat  of  dirt  upon  their  vile  bodies ;  and  here  also  are 
many  common  ])eople  representing  all  classes  and  conditions 
of  Hindus.  In  one  place  beside  the  road  is  a  curious  group 
gathered  around  a  pile  of  sacred  ashes.  They  look  pecu- 
liarly ghastly  in  the  bright  sunlight  of  the  early  morning,  for 
they  have  anointed  themselves 
with  oil  from  top  to  toe,  and 
have  then  besmeared  themselves 
with  the  ashes.  A  singularly 
gray  and  grizzly  look  is  given  to 
them  by  this  operation.  Still 
others  have  gone  down  to  the 
waters  of  the  sacred  stream 
Avhich  flows  near  by,  and  have 
covered  themselves  over,  from 
the  crowns  of  their  heads  to 
the  soles  of  their  feet,  Avith  the 
slime  and  mud  from  the  river's 
banks.  By  the  side  of  the  road 
are  numberless  beggars  with 
little  piles  of  rice  before  them. 
This  has  been  given  them  by 
the  devotees  who  have  just 
bathed  in  the  Ganges,  for  it  is 
considered  a  peculiarly  meritorious  act  to  give  something  in 
charity  after  the  morning  bath  in  the  holy  waters.  Of 
course  beggars  take  advantage  of  such  generosity,  and  swarm 
in  almost  innumerable  throngs  to  this  spot,  which  may  be 
considered  the  very  paradise  of  tramps  and  mendicants. 

It  also  goes  without  saying  that  the  superstition  of  the 
people  is  taken  full  advantage  of  by  the  religious  parasites 
who  live  on  the  fears  of  the  ignorant. 


V    -- 


A  HINDU   FAKIR. 


\ 


> 


340 


HOW   TO   OFFEK   A   (.IKT   TO   THE   (iAN(JES. 


Hero  is  ail  old  fakii-  with  loii^,  I'opy  liair  and  a  tliick 
crust  of  dirt  on  l('<^-s  and  arms,  and  liairy  breast,  who  lias  a 
htth;  shrine  in  Avhich  are  three  bi'ass  •^ods.  AVe  try  to  buy 
one  of  thef^odsto  take  home  to  our  friends  as  a  samphi  of 
what  is  actually  worshi])ed  on  the  banks  of  the  (rang-es,  but 
the  Avily  old  Celhnv  tells  us  that  these  gods  have  been  conse- 

cratetl  and  that  they  are  not  for  sale, 
hut  that  if  we  will  go  to  the  ba/aar 
^vo  can  get  images  just  like  theni  for 
a  few  annas  apiece,  lie  further 
intinuites  that  if  Ave  wish  to  make 
an  oll'ei'ing  to  the  gods,  he  will  not 
object. 

"  IJut  Avhat  would  you  do  with  a 
rupee,  if  we  should  give  it  to  you  (  " 
\v(i  asked.  "  AVhy,  I  would  make 
an  olfering  of  it  to  the  Ganges,"  he 
I'cplied.  "  ]iut  you  do  not  mean 
that  you  would  throw  good  silver 
into  that  muddy  river?  "No,"  he 
replied,  "  I  would  buy  rice  with  it 
and  eat  the  rice,  but  I  Avould  throw 
some  grains  of  it  in  the  river  and 
thus  dedicate  your  rupee."  Perhaps 
the  man's  honesty  demanded  a  re- 
ward, but  it  was  very  evident,  even  if  he  had  not  told  us  so, 
that  the  offering  to  the  Ganges  would  be  made  in  a  meta- 
phorical and  Pickwickian  sense. 

Beside  this  old  fakir  was  a  poor  fellow  Avho  was  born 
Avithout  arms  ;  next  to  him,  a  man  Avith  his  legs  cut  off  above 
the  knees  ;  a  Avoman  came  next  Avitli  a  puny,  shivering,  sickly 
baby  in  hei-  arms ;  all  api)ealing  to  the  generosity  and  com- 
passion of  the  tlevotees,  Avho,  as  they  i)assed  by,  Avere  very 


A   LONd    HAIKED   FAKIU. 


BATHINfJ   IX  THE  SACRED  STREAM. 


341 


likely  to  throw  them  a  quarter  of  an  anna  piece  or  at  least  a 
handful  of  rice. 

As  Ave  look  toward  the  river,  we  see  it  thronged  with 
bathers,  men  and  Avomen  alike,  in  scant  bathing  clothes, 
dipping  and  s])lashing  and  sousing  the  sacred  water  over 
their  bodies  with  great  abandon.  After  a  few  moments  in 
the  water  they  come  up  to  the  bank  to  dry  themselves  in 
the  sun,  and  put  on  dry  clothes,  a  very  easy  process  of  dress- 
ing, where  the  only  garment  consists  of  a  single  strip  of 
cloth,  while  some  of  the  poorer  ones  walk  off  to  their  homes, 
dripi)ing  and  shivering  with  their  wet  wrappings  clinging  to 
their  limbs. 

One  old  woman  whom  Ave  saw  thus  journeying  home- 
AA^ard,  her  di-ipping  cloth  nuirking  every  footstep,  shivered  in 
the  cold  morning  air  as  though  stricken  with  palsy.  Poor 
old  devotee!  I  fear  that  she  Avill  not  stand  manv  such 
baths  even  in  the  sticred  Ganges,  for,  as  she  trudges  off  to 
her  home  in  her  drii)ping  garments,  her  consumptiA'e  cough 
and  emaciated  body  tell  us  that  she  is  near  her  end.  Perhaps 
the  next  time  she  comes  she  Avill  be  brought  by  her  children 
to  breathe  her  last  gasp  on  the  holy  bank,  for  it  is  thought 
to  be  a  very  meritorious  thing  to  die  on  these  sacred  shores. 

Just  before  the  breath  is  thought  to  be  about  to  leave  the 

body,  dying  Hindus  are  often  brought  hither.     Sometimes, 

hoAvcA^er,  there  is  miscalculation,  and  the  person  is  not  so 

near  his  end  as  is  suj)posed.     In  such  circumstances  it  is 

said,  though  I  cannot  vouch  for  the  truth  of  the  story,  tliat 

the  mouth  of  the  dying  ])erson  is  tilled  with  sacred  mud,  and 

the  end  is  thus  hastened  ;  for  it  is  not  Avithin  the  bounds  of 

custom  (and  custom  hei'e  is  as  the  laws  (^f  the  Medes  and 

Persians)  for  a  jierson  who  has  once  been  brought  to  th(> 

banks  of  the  Ganges  to  be  taken  home  again,  however  long 

he  mav  obstinately  persist  in  livir-- 
21 


f 


I 


i!'l 


I'll 
r  : 


^M 


342 


DECORATING  AFTER  THE  BATH. 


One  devoted  son  of  whom  I  have  lieard,  lias  built  a  little 
house  for  his  mother,  whom  some  years  ago  he  brought  to 
the  river's  bank  on  the  supposition  that  she  was  about  to 
give  up  the  ghost.  She  did  not  die,  however,  as  was  ex- 
pected, but  i)ersisted  in  getting  better ;  so  there  was  nothing 
f<jr  this  filial  son  to  do,  as  she  could  not  be  taken  back  to  her 
house  again,  but  to  build  a  little  house  for  her  on  the  banks 
of  the  river,  where  she  might  wait  her  end  and  die  at  her 
leisure. 

At  one  place  Avhich  we  pass,  a  Avealthy  Hindu,  as  an  act 
of  religious  merit,  has  built  a  "  bathing  ghat."  As  we  look 
into  this  ghat  or  bath  house,  which  is  open  to  all  sight-seers, 
as  well  as  to  the  four  winds  of  heaven,  being  simply  a 
covered  shed  with  a  tessellated  stone  pavement,  we  see  the 
})ilgrims  who  have  just  bathed  in  the  river  receiving  their 
morning  shampoo. 

Men  who  understand  the  business  are  rubbing  and  knead- 
ing the  bathers  most  assiduously,  after  which  they  are 
anointed  with  oil,  their  eyebrows  and  finger  nails  are 
stained  with  the  proper  pigment,  and  sacred  ashes  in  red  and 
white  and  yellow  are  mixed  with  oil  and  rubbed  upon  their 
foreheads  in  a  most  artistic  way,  in  lines  and  circles  and 
little  spots,  which  often  have  the  effect  of  a  coarse  kind  of 
tattoo. 

But  all  this  time  we  have  been  drawing  near  the  "  house 
of  burning,"  though  our  progress  has  been  slow  on  account 
of  the  number  of  interesting  sights  on  every  hand  which 
claim  our  attention. 

Here  is  the  famous  ghat  at  last.  After  being  conducted 
through  one  or  two  small  ante-rooms  Ave  come  to  a  large, 
shed-like  building  wliicli  opens  upon  the  Ganges  on  one  side, 
while  the  side  next  to  the  public  road  is  entirely  closed  to 
view.     There  is  no  roof  to  intercept  the  passage  of  the 


THE  BURNING   GHAT. 


343 


smoke  from  tlic  bui'nin<^  bcjdios  to  the  stars.  In  the  soil 
around  which  tlie  walls  of  the  enclosure  arc  built  are  eigh- 
teen hollow  places  about  six  feet  long  and  two  feet  wide. 
Here  the  bodies  are  laid ;  wood  and  straw  is  piled  around, 
over  and  under  them;  the  nearest  relative  lights  the  lire; 
the  poor,  hunuin  clay,  deserted  of  its  spiritual  tenant,  is 
wrapt  in  flames,  and  in  about  two  hours  nothing  is  left  but 


THE  BUIININO  OIIAT. 


a  little  pile  of  ashes,  which  is  carefully  swept  up  and  thrown 
into  the  sacred  waters  which  flow  near  by. 

Poor  people  who  cannot  afford  to  burn  their  relatives 
light  a  little  wisp  of  straw,  blacken  their  faces  with  it,  and 
throw  the  bodies  unceremoniously  into  the  Ganges.  For- 
merly it  was  said  that  travelers  up  the  river  met  many  of 
these  deserted  human  tenements  floating  down  the  stream. 
Now,  I  think,  the  practice  is  forbidden  by  law,  and  the 
sight  of  floating  bodies  is  uncommon,  but  by  no  means 
unknown. 


r 


Ml 


li 


344 


PAYING  B^OR  THE  REPOSE  OF  THE  DEPARTED. 


II 


i\ 


On  the  (lay  of  our  visit  to  the  burning  ghat  there  was 
but  one  body  undergoing  crenuition,  and  that  the  body  of  a 
little  chihl.  The  morning  l)et'ore,  however,  the  attendant 
told  us  that  no  less  than  eleven  of  the  eighteen  ghastly  tire- 
|)laees  were  filled  with  burning  bodies  at  one  time,  and  an 
average  of  twenty  each  day  are  brought  to  this  particular 
ghiit  for  cremation. 

Hindu  theology  says  that  after  the  body  luis  been  burned, 
the  parts  all  are  joined  once  more  and  must  march  through 
a  river  of  mire  and  blood,  but  if  the  friends  of  the  dead  man 
will  give  the  Brahmin  a  cow,  his  journey  Avill  be  nuicb 
easier ;  this  is  certainly  a  very  convenient  doctrine  for  the 
Brahmin  priest  to  promulgate. 

After  the  dead  man  gets  beyond  this  unpleasant  s))()t  he 
must  walk  over  ground  like  tiery  hot  cop})er,  and  if  a  pair  of 
shoes  is  donated  to  the  priest  it  would  be  more  })leasant  for 
the  departed  sj)irit.  Next  the  spirit  comes  to  a  road  full  of 
spikes,  and  if  the  friends  will  only  give  the  Bi'uhmin  a  bed- 
sj)read,  the  spirit  need  not  lie  ujxm  the  si)ikes.  By  this  time 
the  i)riest  is  ])retty  well  fitted  out,  and  the  dejKirted  spirit  is 
allowed  to  get  along  as  best  it  can.  Thus  <1()  these  mercen- 
ary religionists  i)rey  upon  the  fears  and  su[)erstitions  of  their 
ignorant  followers.  AV^hat  a  contrast  this  to  the  unselllsh 
invitation,  "''\>jiio  unto  Me  and  I  will  give  you  rest." 

If,  now,  in  imagination,  we  ])ass  over  the  1,5(H)  miles  of 
mountain  and  valley  and  spreading  plain  that  stretch  be- 
tween Calcutta  aiul  the  connjiercial  ca])ital  of  India, 
Bombay,  we  shall  find  still  Jinother  very  peculiar  i)rocess  of 
disposing  of  the  dead,  for  in  Bombay  are  80,000  Parsees, 
who  neither  bury  n(ir  burn,  but  expose  their  dead  on  towers 
built  on  hill  t()])s,  called  "Towers  of  Silence."  The  Towers 
of  Silence  in  Bombay  number  five,  and  are  situated  in  the 
midst  of  a  beiaitiful  garden.     It  is  a  most  im[)ressive  and 


1. 


THE   TOWEKS   ',)F   SILENCE. 


345 


solemn  place,  and,  though  exceed  in  <^iy  i'ev()ltin<^  in  some  of 
its  particulars  to  the  Western  mind,  is  nevertlitfless  a  place 
of  intense  intei'est. 

After  death  tiie  ])ody  of  the  J*ai'see  is  taken  to  the  lowest 
floor  of  the  house  in  which  the  dead  })ei'son  was  horn.  There 
the  priests  pray  for  the  soul  that  has  left  the  hody,  and  a 
dog  is  brought  in  to  look  at  the  corpse.  Afterwards  it  is 
wrai)i)cd  in  a  sheet,  laid  on  an  iron  bier,  and  carried  to  one 
of  the  Towers  of  Silence.  The  fi-iends  follow  on  foot,  as  no 
carriaires  are  allowed  at  a  Parsee  funeral.     The  mourners 


'tS'^m^. 


A   TOWEK  OF   Sri.ENCE. 


are  all  dressed  in  white  and  walk  in  pairs,  each  pair  holding 
a  white  handkerchief  between  them. 

The  largest  tower  of  silence  in  Bombay  is  a  round  build- 
ing, in  which  are  72  spaces  for  the  bodies  of  men  next  to  the 
wall,  just  below  the  spaces  for  the  men  are  72  more  small 
places  for  the  bodies  of  women,  and,  below  them,  72  still 
smaller  grooves  for  the  bodies  of  children.  Between  the 
si)aces  for  the  men,  women,  and  children,  are  little  footpaths. 
On  ihese  dreary  biers  are  laid  the  dead  bodies  of  the  de- 
parted, and,  before  the  attendant  Parsees  have  left  the 
silent  tower,  the  hungry  vultures,  which  are  always  sitting 


I 


Hi 


340 


THE  FEAST  OF  THE  VULTURES. 


'  i 


h 

I 


like  horrid  Harpies  on  tlie  ed^e  of  the  tower,  swoop  down 
and  tear  the  flesh  from  the  bones  and  fly  back  to  their  filthy 
perches.  Thus  they  dispute  for  the  last  morsel  of  the  dead 
body  until  only  the  bleaching  bones  remain.  After  the 
skeleton  of  the  dead  man  has  been  left  for  some  three  or 
four  weeks  on  the  tower,  the  bones  are  thrown  into  a  Avell 
in  the  middle  of  the  tower,  where  they  decompose  after  a 
while  into  lime,  and  are  washed  out  by  the  descending  rains, 
and  are  thus  finally  disposed  of.  There  is  something  pecu- 
liarly disgusting  to  many  minds  about  such  a  disposal  of  the 
dead,  but,  from  a  sanitary  point  of  view,  the  physicians  say 
that  it  is  not  by  any  means  the  Avorst  of  methods. 

On  the  day  of  our  visit  fully  one  hundred  of  the  thou- 
sand vultures  wdiich  are  said  to  haunt  the  toAvers  of  silence 
were  sitting  in  a  dreadful  h^  suggestive  way  on  the  edge  of 
tlieir  stone  paraj)ets,  Avaiting  for  the  horrible  feast  which 
Avould  be  spread  for  them  before  the  day  Avas  over. 

There  are  many  things  of  living,  healthful  interest  in  this 
great  city  of  Bombay.  The  streets  are  Avide  in  some  por- 
tions of  the  city,  and  lined  Avith  really  magnificent  build- 
ings. As  one  drives  along  the  street  he  sees  not  only 
Hindus  of  every  caste  and  condition  of  life,  but  Parsees  Avith 
their  curious  glazed  ca})s,  Jains  Avith  their  two-cornered 
turbans,  and  Arabians  in  voluminous  garments  Avith  coils  of 
camel's  hair  around  their  heads. 

Brilliant  cok)rs,  too,  abound  CA^eryAvhere, — red,  and 
green,  and  blue;  Avhile  the  higher  class  Avomen  in  their 
graceful,  transparent,  silken  robes,  interwoven  Avitli  delicate 
figures  in  subdued  colors,  add  a  very  picturesque  element  to 
the  crowded  streets. 

The  ]\roliamniedans  are  of  course  verA'  numerous.  It  is 
said  that  there  are  more  Mohammedans  in  Bombay  than  in 
any  other  city  in  the  world. 


A   POLYGLOT   POPULATION. 


347 


Of  all  this  polyglot  population,  the  Parsees  are  the 
most  interesting.  Many  of  them  are  well-to-do  and  some 
of  them  are  very  wealthy.  Their  cast  of  countenance  is 
decidedly  Jewish,  and  their  long  aquiline  noses  and  shrewd 
business  features  would  not  look  out  of  place  in  the  Jewish 
quarters  of  Amsterdam  or  Frankfort.  Their  great  teacher 
was  Zoroaster,  who  lived  1,200  years  before  Christ,  and  their 
religion  has  few  of  the  revolting,  idolatrous  elements  which 
characterize  the  mass  of  heathen  religions. 

They  are  sometimes  called  fire- worshipers,  Avhich  is  not, 
however,  a  correct  designation.  In  worshiping  God  they 
say  one  ought  to  look  at  some  of  the  wonderful  things  that 
He  has  made,  such  as  the  sun,  the  moon,  the  water,  or  fire, 
not  that  these  elements  are  gods  but  in  them  they  see  God 
revealed. 

This  idea  lies  at  the  root  of  their  burial  practices.  They 
cannot  put  the  bodies  in  the  ground  according  to  their 
notions,  or  else  the  earth  would  be  defiled.  They  cannot 
burn  them,  for  fire  is  a  sacred  element.  They  cannot  throw 
them  into  the  river,  for  the  water  would  l)e  desecrated,  but 
the  vultures,  being  unclean  birds,  can  dispose  of  the  dead 
bodies  without  defiling  land  or  water,  fire  or  earth. 

If  one  walks  in  the  beautiful  Victoria  Gardens  towards 
sundown,  he  will  see  the  greatest  variety  of  Eastern  peoples 
to  be  found  on  any  spot  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  Accord- 
ing to  the  latest  census,  in  Bombay  alone,  sixty-one  different 
languages  are  s})oken,  and  the  castes  are  almost  innumer- 
able. The  distinctions  of  caste  are  giving  way  to  some 
extent  in  Bombay  as  in  other  parts  of  India,  but  very,  very 
slowly,  and  among  the  great  masses  of  population  it  is  still 
considei'ed  a  most  disgraceful  and  outrageous  thing  to  lose 
one's  caste. 

A  mother  will  turn  her  child  oat  of  doors  if  he  eats  a 


1' 


111 


.    348 


THE   RIGOIiS   OK   CASTE. 


IE      ' 

i, 


■    ? 
;    1.. 


li 


s 


1  i 


i 

I 


]);n'ti('lo  of  food  tliat  is  ])i'(^|)iU'('(l  ])y  ii  woman  of  lower  casto. 
A  woman  will  desert  lier  liusbimd  wliom  slie  susjx'cts,  not  of 
marital  unfaithfulness,  but  of  liavin<^  dined  with  some  one; 
of  lower  raidv  thiin  himself.  Kveii  th(!  cooUs  in  the  kitchen 
^vill  sliake  the  dust  fi'om  olf  their  feet  and  indignantly  leave 
tli(^  s(^rvic(;  of  liim  who  lias  in  any  way  hi-oken  his  caste  and 
<lelile(l  himself  by  foi'^^'ettin^'  the  strict  ceremonial  obscM'v- 
ance  which  the  bonda<^(!  of  tlu?  a<^(,'s  lias  imposed. 

Jlere  is  a,  ])ai'a^i"a])li  which  1  have  just  clipped  from  an 
Allahabad  paper.  "  in  oi'der  to  bo  allow<!d  the  ])rivile^<is  of 
the  casl(!  to  which  Ik?  belon<>'s,  a  youn^  l>eTi<;ale(^  bari'ister, 
who  had  just  returnc<l  fi'om  Kn^land,  ))erforme<l  Wu)  other 
day  an  exceedin<4ly  un|)leasant  Pnii/dKc/iilta  ceremony,  in 
the  ju'esence  of  jiundits  and  many  Hindu  <^entlemen.  It  is  a 
distinctive  feature  of  the  Hindus  of  the  present  day  that 
tiicy  are  not  lu^luctant  to  re-admit  into  their  fold  those 
whom  they  regard  as  social  sinners  of  tlu;  blackest  dye. 
But  how  that  l)arrist<'r's  Knglish  iViends  would  have  stared, 
if,  while  \\v  was  eatin<^  his  dinners  in  London,  he  had  told 
them  what  ho  would  have  to  cat  on  his  retui-n  home." 

AVliat  this  ceremony  of  ref^aininj;'  cast(;  is,  is  not  to  bo 
oxj)lained  hero.  It  woidd  not  be  ])ossibl(!  .to  (mter  into 
(Uitails  for  they  ai'e  not  foi*  ears  ))olite,  and  we  will  only  say 
that  this  young  barrister  had  to  eat  the  vilest  compound 
which  can  bo  jjossibly  imagined,  to  pay  for  the  gay  dinnei's 
of  which  ho  had  partaken  in  tho  lan<l  across  the  sea. 

Hero  is  another  jiaragraph  from  one  of  these  progi'ossivo 
pa|)ers,  which  shows  the;  im|)ationco  of  modei'n  Hindu  life 
with  i\w  ceremonial  shackles  of  tin?  past:  ''He  is  aged  S2 
and  he  is  to  marry  a  girl  of  the  .same  sect,  aged  Id.  They 
are  both  Madhwas,  and  the  holy  rite  of  mati'imony  will  bo 
])ei'foi'me(l  at  Madi'as;  yet  peojile  say  we  live  in  a  progi'oss- 


ivo a<ro 


^tArrn-MAKiN(j  as  a  tuokkssion. 


349 


Tli()ti<^li  the  l)i'i(l(!<^i'()<)iii  is  not  oI'Umi  so  old  iis  tlic!  vcnri'- 
ahlc  pJU'ty  lioi'o  alluded  to,  tli(^  l)i'ide  is  ol'tcjii  (jiiitc;  as  yoim<^', 
uiid  rnMiucntly  iniicli  youn<^(M'  than  the  ton-y<'ai'-old  ;;irl  who 
Avas  sold  into  niatfinionial  slavci-y  at  Madi'as.  T\\o.  usual 
i\*y()  I'oi'  a  man  to  niai-i-y  is  sixteen  or  seventeen,  the  rre<|uent 
iiii'o   i'oi"   a  yii'l,   eiiiht   or   nine.     Not    unconnnoidv    she    is 


A   IIINUU    lUlIDK. 

inari'ied  when  three  or  four  years  of  a^e,  thou<;h  she  does 
not  ^i)  to  liv«!  at  onct^  in  her  liushand's  iiouse. 

Th(!  Itusiness  of  the  match -makers  in  India  is  not  a  s<!eret 
and  clan(l(!stin<!  affair  as  in  AnK^rica,  nor  are  match-makers 
look(;(l  upon  as  meddlers  with  other  ])eoj)l(?\s  husiness,  hut  it 
is  an  open,  lionorable,  ;ind  avowed  occuj)ation. 

These  match-makers  spend  theii*  time  in  ^'oin;^-  alxMit 
arran^in^  for  marria^-es.  AVlien  they  have  found  a  hoy  and 
a  ^irl  that  they  think  will  make  a  <j;()od  cou|)le,  they  f^o  to 


ff 


350 


A   WEDDING    PROCESSION. 


1 

r 


'  I!' 


r 

u 


Hi: 


tho  j)iircnts  and  talk  tlie  inattor  ovci",  i»i'aisin<^  up  the  littlo 
fr\v\  to  the  ])aronts  of  tlio  boy,  and  laudin;,^  the  beauty  and 
tho  wealth  and  the  f^ood  disjjosition  of  tho  boy  to  the  <;'ir]'s 
parents.  Of  course  their  descriptions  are  taken  with  a  ^rain 
of  salt,  and  the  matclnnakers'  flowing  accounts  are  not 
altoji^^ither  trusted,  but  they  are  usually  the  intei^nediaries 
throu<^h  whom  the  youthful  ])air  are  broug'ht  to<,n>ther. 

AVhen  wo  wei'o  in  I>ond)ay,  the  stars  were  favorable,  and 
the  })riests  })roclaiined  that  for  many  months  to  come  there 
would  not  be  such  desirable  lieavenly  auspices  for  connubial 
l)liss.  On  this  account  weddings  wore  very  frecjuent,  and  we 
could  scarcely  go  along  any  oi'  the  crowded  streets  wliere 
Hindus  most  do  congregate  without  seeing  one  or  more 
wedding  processions. 

They  wore  most  gorgeous  affairs.  First  would  come  a 
bi'ass  band  blaring  with  its  trum[)ets  and  boating  its  cymbals 
and  drums.  Then  would  come  tho  family  friends  of  tho  bride 
and  bridegroom  arrayed  in  all  their  linory  of  bright-colored 
silks;  theii'  arms,  wrists,  noses,  and  ears  bedecked  with 
chains  and  bracelets,  jewels,  and  rings,  large  and  snudl,  of 
most  elaboi'ate  desi/ns.  Then  fre(|uently  we  would  see  the 
bridegroom  trying  to  look  grave  and  dignified  with  all  the 
bui'den  of  his  sixteen  years  resting  luNivily  upon  his 
shouldei's.  Often  he  would  b<^  <lecke<l  and  gai'landed  with 
flowei's  and  chains  and  jewels  so  that  his  face  was  scai'cely 
visible.  Sometinu^s  a  companion  would  walk  by  his  side 
solemnly  fanning  him. 

The  bridegi'<K)m  is  usually  perched  upon  a  high  horse, 
and  if  the  later  stages  of  the  wedding  have  been  reached 
the  little  bride  is  often  seen  behind  her  husband.  Fro(piently 
she  is  a  tiny,  j)athetic  little  mite  indeed.  She  ought  to  be  in 
tho  nursery  ])laying  with  her  dolls,  or  in  the  kindergarten 
learning  her  A  1>  ("s,  but  instead  of  this  the  resi)onsibilities 


kML 


EXPENSIVE   CEREMONIES. 


351 


of  woniiinhood  liuvo  been  tlirust  on  licr  in  licr  infancy,  and 
sho  is  boi'no  off  to  licr  husband's  liouse  to  live  tiie  stupid, 
uncv(3ntful  life  of  tlio  zeruma. 

The  we(hlinif  ceremonies  hist  numv  (hivs,  and  are  accom- 
panied  by  ^^^reat  expense  to  the  fatlier  and  mother  of  tiie 
bri(U!  at  whose  liouse  they  take  ])lace.  Oftentimes  the  poor 
man  Avill  spend  his  last  rupee,  mort^^age  his  ])roj)ei'ty,  and  go 
in  debt  for  years  to  come  for  the  sake  of  givin;s^  his  daughter 
a  j)ropcr  wedding  feast. 

Though  he  lives  in  rags,  dirt,  and  ])overty,  the  little  girl 


A    ZKNANA    (  AltHIAdK   OF    IIOMHAY. 


must  for  once  be  decked  in  silks  and  jewels  l)efore  she  is 
carried  off  to  her  husband's  home.  Tin;  missionary  is  fre- 
(piently  called  upon  to  act  as  matchmaker  l)etween  the 
(Jhristian  boys  aiul  girls.  One  of  my  friends  was  rcci^ntly 
asked  by  a  ])r(miising  young  man  to  speak  to  a  gii'l  of  whom 
he  had  heai'd  good  I'eports  as  likely  to  mak(i  a  suitable  wife. 
lie  had  never  seen  hej*  but  once  in  his  life,  and  then  at  a 
distance. 

The  missionary  undertook  the  delicate  mattei",  but  the 
girl  refused  the  otl'er  point-blank.  The  ardent  swain,  how- 
ever, was  by  jio  means  discouraged,  for  when  my  fi'iend  told 


352 


MAKING  THE   BEST   OF   IT. 


i: 


him  of  his  fortune,  he  renmrked  thut  lie  Avas  ghul  to  know 
of  the  matter  without  any  unnecessary  deUiy,  since  he 
ah-eady  had  another  (hunsel  in  mind  for  the  position,  to 
Avhom  he  hoped  the  missionary  woukl  make  his  next  applica- 
tion, Tso  doubt  final  success  smiled  upon  this  persistent 
though  somewhat  nonchalant  lover. 

These  matchmakers'  nuiri'iag'es  do  not  always  turn  out  as 
unhappily  as  might  be  supposed,  by  any  means.  The  young 
couple,  thus  brought  together,  make  the  best  of  their  circum- 
stances and  of  each  other.  The  husband  is  usually  affection- 
ate, and  the  wife,  from  the  very  force  of  circumstances,  faith- 
ful. If  love's  passionate  young  dream  is  not  exi)erienced, 
neither  is  the  frequent  disillusi(jnment  and  reaction  of  mar- 
ried life  in  more  northern  climes,  and  it  is  pleasant  to  believe 
as  we  leave  this  subject  that  behind  the  walls  of  many  of  the 
poor  mud  huts  of  India,  as  everywhere  else  in  this  old  world, 
is  much  conjugal  felicity,  parental  affection,  and  filial 
devotion. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

IN  THE  COUNTRY  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY. 

Across  Nortliern  India  by  Rail  —  In  an  Indian  Sleeping  Car —  Scenes  from 
our  Car  Window  —  Storks  and  Penguins,  Monkeys  and  Jackals  —  "It 
is  a  Beautiful  ]\Iorning  ;  Come,  Let  Us  Kill  Something  "  —  Detiling  a 
Peddler's  Sweetmeats  —  A  Work  of  Patience  and  Diplomacy  —  An 
Every  Day  Conversation  in  India  —  The  ^leeca  of  the  Urahmins  —  The 
Monkey  Temple  —  Cawnpore  of  Bloody  Memory  —  An  Awful  Page  of 
History  —  The  Angel  of  Remembrance  —  Memories  of  Lucknow  — 
The  Gallant  Lawrence  —  Ilavelock's  Troops  to  the  Rescue  —  The 
Hero's  Grave  —  The  Cannon  Ball  that  Robbed  the  Mother  of  Her  Babe 
—  The  City  of  the  Taj  Mahal  —  The  Mogul's  Promise  and  How  He 
Kept  It— "In  Memory  of  an  Immortal  Love"  — The  Hand  of  the 
Vandal —  "  .lane  Higginbottom  "  in  the  Taj  —  How  the  Old  King 
Played  Parches!. 


kRO]\I  Calcutta  to  Bombay,  as  the 
crow  flies,  is  not  much  more  than 
a  thousand  miles,  but  by  the  way 
that  most  travelers  journey  it  is 
fully  twice  that  distance,  since  a 
considerable  detour  must  be  made 
to  take  in  the  historic  cities  of 
Benares.  Allahabad,  Lucknow, 
Cawnpore,  and  Agra. 

It  is  a  journey  well  worth  tak- 
ing, I  assure  yon,  de"i'  reader,  for 
it  leaves  upon  tiie  memory  of 
every  traveler  indelible  photogra]ihs  of  marvelous  tem})les 
and  incomparable  mausoleums;  of  fortresses  and  battle 
grounds,  made  sacred  by  the  blood  of  heroic  men  and 
women;   besides  many  more   peaceful   pictures  of  smiling 

(353) 


! 


■I  1  1, 


364 


THE  RAILWAYS  OF  NORTHERN  INDIA. 


^  ,  ; 


%  it 


fields  and  thronging  villages,  and  gaily  dressed  crowds  of 
peo])le  tluit  are  constantly  moving  in  a  kaleidoscopic  way 
across  our  picture. 

The  railway  train  in  which  we  set  forth,  like  all  Indian 
railway  trains,  is  divided  into  first,  second,  and  third-class 
coni})artments,  with  xn  intermediate  class  corresponding  to 
the  third-class,  for  European  travelers  only.  The  fares  are 
exceedingly  cheap  except  in  the  first-class  compartments,  and 
even  there  they  are  not  extravagant  according  to  our  West- 
ern notions.  Tickets  in  the  third-class  carriages  cost  less 
than  one-half  cent  a  mile,  in  the  second-class  about  one  cent 
a  mile,  and  in  the  first-class  about  two  cents  for  the  same 
distance.  As  a  result  of  these  fares,  the  third-class  carriages 
are  always  crowded  with  native  travelers ;  the  second-class 
are  sparingly  used  by  Euro])eans,  and  the  first-class  compart- 
ments are  run  at  a  dead  loss  to  the  railway  company.  You 
need  not  expect  any  remarkably  luxurious  accommodation 
even  in  the  first-class  cars,  as  we  warned  you  when  writing 
of  railway  travel  in  Southern  India,  No  deft  poi'ters  make 
up  our  sleeping  berths  for  us ;  no  luxurious  arm  chairs  invite 
rest  and  repose ;  no  nickel-})! ated  lavatories  and  toilet  rooms 
fitted  up  with  all  kinds  of  Yankee  contrivances  need  Ave 
expect.  If  we  take  our  own  servant,  as  many  travelers  in 
India  do,  he  will  spread  our  blankets  and  quilts,  which  we 
must  carry  with  us,  upon  the  seats  when  night  comes,  and 
arrange  our  pillows  as  comfortably  as  may  be.  He  will 
then  seek  his  own  place  in  a  third-class  carriage  while  we 
betake  ourselves  to  the  Land  of  Nod  as  quickly  as  })ossible, 
for  the  dull  and  smoky  lam|)s  afford  no  inducement  to  sit  up 
to  read  after  the  evening  lamps  of  the  sky  have  been  set 
aglow. 

"While  daylight  lasts,  however,  there  is  plenty  to  attract 
us  in  the  varied  scenery  through  which  we  are  continually 


BEAUTIFUL  AND   FEARLESS   WILD   BIRDS.  365 

passing.  Vilhi<,^e  succeetls  villiige,  a  curious  thi-oiig  at  one 
station  is  succeodod  by  a  more  curious  throng,  as  it  seems  to 
us,  at  the  next  station,  and  all  is  life  and  bustle  wherever 
the  train  stops. 

Looking  from  the  car  window  one  sees  more  wild  birds 
and  beasts  in  an  liom'  whe'i  passing  over  the  })lains  of  North- 
ern India  than  he  would  see  in  twenty-four  hours  in  Amer- 
ica. The  Hindu  regard  for  life  has  caused  birds  and  beasts  to 
multiply  and  abound  everywhere.  Saucy  crows  with  grey 
necks,  and  bright,  bead-like  eyes,  will  almost  pluck  food  out 
of  your  very  hands  as  you  are  eating  your  midday  lunch ; 
green  parrots  by  the  hundred  will  scream  at  you  from  the 
telegraph  wires;  owls  will  hoot  from  their  undisturbed 
])erch  on  the  to])  of  the  telegra])h  poles ;  beautiful  birds  in 
blue  and  crimson  plunuige  will  flutter  about  the  branches 
wherever  a  tree  is  to  be  seen ;  great,  red-headed  storks, 
standing  almost  as  high  as  a  man,  will  unblinkingly  contem- 
plate the  rushing  train  as  they  stand  upon  one  foot  gazing 
after  us ;  solemn  penguins  with  heavy  bills  and  huge  pouches 
beneath,  will  watch  us  from  the  bogs  in  which  they  are  get- 
ting their  noonday  meals  ;  herds  of  spotted  deer  will  scamper 
away  as  tlie  train  apj)roaclies ;  jackals  will  sneak  out  of 
sight,  and  monkeys  will  grin  and  chatter  at  us  from  the 
overhanging  branches;  while  the  familiar  and  unpudent 
blackbirds  and  jackdaws  will  perch  on  the  horns  of  the  goats 
and  cattle  as  we  rush  by  the  jxistui-es,  so  sure  are  they,  after 
centuries  of  protection,  that  they  will  not  be  disturbed. 

What  a  pity  it  is  that  in  America  every  cruel  schoolboy, 
before  he  reaches  the  age  of  mercy  and  humanity,  is  allowed 
to  have  his  rifle  and  sh(>tgun  to  })op  away  at  the  poor,  harm- 
less creatures  which  (iod  has  made,  driving  them  into  the 
solitaiy  wilderness  where  alone  they  can  expect  to  rear  their 

young  in  safety  and  jieace. 
23 


350 


AN   EDUCATION  IN   CRUELTY. 


11  4 


I 


"It  is  a  bciiutiful  morning;  come,  let  us  kill  something,'* 
is  the  sarcastic  Froncimian's  comment  on  the  average 
"shooting"  Englishman;  a  comment  which  will  apply  as 
well  to  the  average  American,  I  am  sorry  to  say.  Some- 
thing besides  game  laws  and  legislative  enactments  are 
necessary  to  preserve  the  sylvan  life  of  our  woods  and  fields. 
Better  is  the  su])erstitious  ilread  of  the  Hindu  in  regard  to 
life-taking  than  the  indifferent  cruelty  of  the  Anglo-Saxon. 

When  we  stop  at  the  stations  and  show  ourselves  on  the 


A    XATIVK    "TrUN-Ol'T." 

platform,  a  motley  tlii'(mg  gathers  about  us.  Here  is  the 
fruit  vendor  with  his  yellow  bananas,  his  loose-jacket 
oranges,  his  guavas  which  rocpiire  a  considerable  course  of 
education  before  one  can  enjoy  them.  Our  taste  v.v  educated 
up  to  bananas  and  oranges  and  we  can  buy  as  numy  as 
we  please  for  a  quarter  of  an  anna,  or  about  half  a  cent 
apiece. 

Here  comes  some  other  railway  vendors,  with  travs  full 
of  cakes  and  sweets  of  a  very  doul)tful  and  curious  character 
to  our  unaccust(mied  eyes. 


AN   UNFLATTERINCi   ESTIMATE. 


357 


The  peddler  sets  them  down  from  liis  head,  where  he 
ahvuys  carries  them,  as  every  other  buiKde  is  cari'ied  in 
India,  and  we  are  abont  to  take  one  of  them  from  his  tray 
to  see  what  it  is,  when  with  a  gesture  of  liorror,  lie  j)revents 
us  from  doing  so,  and  insists  U])on  oui-  pointing  to  what  we 
want  from  a  resj)ectful  distance.  AV^e  soon  learn  that  we 
shoukl  defile  all  his  tray-full  of  goods  by  so  nuich  as  touch- 
ing one  of  liis  sweetmeats  with  our  little  finger,  so  jJoUuted 
are  we  in  his  Hindu  eyes;  and  yet  the  same  jjcddler  is 
doubtless  a  sweaty,  dirty,  ragged,  and  generally  disrei)utable 
fellow,  Avho,  from  his  appearance,  lias  not  had  a  decent  bath 
for  a  year. 

It  raises  our  Yankee  ire  somewhat  to  be  regarded  as 
an  unclean  ])ariali  by  this  dirty  specimen  of  hunumity,  but 
we  submit  to  the  inevitable,  point  to  the  particular  goods 
that  we  want,  pay  for  them  with  a  few  small  copper  coins, 
and  take  our  place  once  more  in  our  carriage  to  enjoy  our 
unaccustomed  feast. 

Besides  these  peddlers  of  fruits  and  sweets,  every  large 
station  abounds  with  venders  of  more  substantial  wares; 
brass-work  from  IJenares,  inlaid  marble  cui'ios  from  A"-ra. 
curiously  painted  metal  ])lates  and  cups  from  ]\Ioradabad, 
and  clay  ligures  of  all  kinds  and  shapes  and  sizes  from 
Lucknow. 

To  buy  any  article  in  India  is  a  work  of  patience  and 
dii)lomacy,  on  the  ])ai't  of  both  buyer  and  seller.  In  this 
land  I  have  often  thought  of  Solomon's  descrij)tion  of  the 
l)urchaser:  "It  is  naught,  it  is  naught,  saitli  the  buyer,  but 
when  he  is  gone  his  way,  then  he  boasteth."  Here  is  the 
conversati(m  that  is  usually  preliminary  to  a  iHirchase  in 
India.     "How  much  for  this  clay  figured'  asks  the  buyer. 

"One  rupee,"  answers  the  seller. 

"Too  much,"  is  the  invariable  rej)ly  of  the  buyer;  and  so 


Iff 


358 


DRIVING   A   BAROAIN. 


II 


r; 

'i . 

J   '  ■    ■ 

11- 


!l 


i 


it  is,  for  the  seller  ahvavs  asks  at  least  three  or  four  times 
as  inucli  as  lie  exju'cts  to  take. 

"How  much  will  you  give  theni"'  asks  tlie  merchant. 

"Two  annas"  (one  eighth  of  a  rupee),  says  the  i)rospect- 
ive  Ijuyer,  tiiinking  he  ^viii  be  sure  to  make  liis  oiler  low 
enough. 

With  a  gesture  of  surprise  antl  almost  indignation  the 
vender  re})udiates  the  otl'er,  as  much  as  to  say:  "This  is 
simply  outrageous.  Do  you  insult  a  nuin  by  offering  him 
one-eighth  of  what  a  thing  is  worth  i  However,  seeing  that 
it  is  you,  and  since  I  regard  you  as  a  very  good  fi'iend,  I 
will  throw  off  a  little  something;  you  may  have  it  for 
twelve  annas." 

"No,  no,"  says  the  buyer,  "I  will  give  you  two  annas, 
take  it  or  leave  it  as  you  choose." 

"What  a  hard-hearted,  cruel  individual  you  are,"  the 
merchant  by  every  look  and  gesture  seems  to  say;  "you 
would  rob  the  dead  of  their  grave  clothes,  j'^ou  would  take 
the  orphan's  last  crust  of  bread  out  of  his  very  mouth ;  but, 
seeing  I  want  to  make  a  sale,  I  will  let  you  have  the  image 
for  eight  annas." 

Again  the  buyer  shakes  his  head  resolutely:  "Two 
annas,  only  two  annas." 

"Well,  vou  mav  have  it  for  four,"  savs  the  seller,  but 
another  resolute  shake  of  the  head  sends  him  off  for  a  few 
minutes. 

He  has  no  idea  of  leaving,  however;  you  may  count  on 
seeing  him  back  almost  instantly,  with  an  ex})ression  of 
injured  innocence  on  his  face,  especially  if  there  are  other 
])eddlers  near  by,  saying  by  his  looks:  "Well,  rob  me  if  you 
will,  take  the  last  anna  from  a  poor  starving  merchant,  but 
if  you  will  only  give  two  annas  for  this  beautiful  image, 
why,  here  it  is,  take  it,  it  is  yours." 


r»' 


THE   HINDU  S  HOLY   CITY. 


359 


re, 


Then  very  likely  he  goes  off,  chuckling  over  his  bargain, 
having  obtained  twice  as  much  from  tiie  unsusi)octiiig  trav- 
eler as  the  tiling  was  really  worth. 

Beguiled  by  such  varied  scenes  as  here  described  tlio 
time  passes  rapidly  away  until  we  come  to  the  end  of  the 
first  stage  of  our  ])ilgrimage,  the  sacretl  city  of  iJenares, 


IN  THE   MONKEY  TEMPLE. 


which  is  also  the  end  of  their  journey  for  many  other  pil- 
grims beside  ourselves. 

This  city  on  the  banks  of  the  Ganges  is  to  the  Hindu  the 
holiest  ])lace  in  all  the  world,  and  the  Holy  of  Holies  is  the 
well  full  of  dead  flowers  and  rice  and  Ganges  water,  which 
is  Avorth  to  the  devout  Hindu  any  amount  of  money  per  tea- 
spoonful,  so  sacred  is  it  in  his  e^'es. 

The  Hindus  think  that  Benares  is  80,000  steps  nearer 
heaven  than  any  other  })lace,  and  it  is  the  Mecca  of  every 
devout  Brahmin.     TToro,  besides  the  Golden  Temple,  is  the 


i' 


ih 


*ii 


1:  /■? 

.'V, 


I    i 


3G0 


AT   THE   MINGLING  OF   THE   SACRED   STREAMS. 


groat  Monkey  Temple,  where  scores  of  monlvoys  are  con- 
tiiuuilly  ruiininn-  in  uiul  out.  Ilei'o,  too,  is  the  (.'o\v  Temple, 
Avliich  is  oiilv  less  sacred  than  the  abode  of  the  monkeys. 

Not  many  miles  Ijeyond  Jk'nares  is  the  great  city  of 
Allahabad,  a  very  im])ortant  i)lace  in  Central  India.  AVhen 
the  Hindu  ])ilgrim  iirst  comes  to  Allahabad,  Ave  are  told, 
he  sits  down  on  the  bank  of  the  (Ganges  and  has  his  head 
shaved,  holding  it  over  the  waters  so  that  every  hair  may 
fall  into  the  river,  and  he  believes  that  for  every  hair  he 
shall  get  a  millicjn  years  in  heaven.  So  if  a  man  is  only  lich 
enough  to  take  the  journey  to  Allahabad,  and  has  a  good 
head  of  hair  to  sjjare,  he  is  sure  of  a  very  considerable  time 
in  Paradise.  The  view  from  the  port  of  Allahabad  is  most 
extensive  and  interesting.  Just  beyond  the  fort  is  the 
juncture  of  the  two  sacred  rivei's,  the  Ganges  and  the 
Jumna.  The  Ganges  Hows  down  dai-k  and  muddy,  the 
Jumna  bright  aiul  s})arkling,  and  here  where  they  mingle 
thc'r  water  is  the  })lace  of  ])laces  for  all  Hindus,  the  most 
sacred,  cxce])t  Iknares,  in  all  the  world. 

Here  Ih-ahnun  priests  and  fakirs  have  Iniilt  their  huts. 
Here  the  barbers  ])ly  their  trade  in  order  that  the  hairs  may 
fall  into  the  sacred  sti'eam  and  thus  secure  an  eternity  of 
bliss.  Here,  at  the  junction  of  the  two  rivers,  on  the  vast 
])lain  which,  in  the  wet  season,  is  swe))t  by  the  rushing  water, 
and  which  is  left  bare  when  the  dry  season  returns,  a  great 
fair  is  annually  held.  Once  in  six  years  it  is  of  lai'ger  })ro- 
port'ons  than  on  othei'  years,  and  fully  a  million  ])co])le,  ,  is 
said,  are  sometimes  encamped  on  the  banks  of  these  sacred 


rivei's. 


Here.   su])erstition,   ignorance,   and   ancestral  traditions 

lii'i'ims  of  their  mone' 


combme  to  lleece 


the  i)il^ 


and  to  u'ive  to 


them  for  their  hard  cash  unsubstantial  ])i'()mises  of  l)liss  in 
the  Ih'ahn  ■  \'s  heaven.     Allahabad,  also,  is  a  great  military 


hi 


>  ■■' 


THE  MUTINY  AT  CAWNPORE. 


301 


,    is 
red 


station  for  English  and  native  soldiers,  and  liere,  best  of  all, 
the  American  missionaries,  both  of  the  Presbyterian  and 
Methodist  boards,  have  flourishing  and  important  schools 
and  churches. 

But  our  journey  is  a  long  orie,  and  we  must  hurry  on 
until  we  reach  Cawnpore,  a  name  forever  associated  with 
hideous  deeds  of  cruelty  and  acts  of  highest  heroism.  Not 
only  have  Englishmen  an  historic  interest  in  this  city,  but 
Americans  as  well  have  part  in  the  traditions  of  the  place, 
for  four  American  missionaries  with  tlieir  wives  and  their 
children  were  among  the  first  to  suffer  martyrdom  in  the 
great  mutiny. 

As  we  recall  the  awful  story  of  the  mutiny,  it  will  be 
remembered  that  for  many  days  the  little  British  garrison 
had  defended  the  helpless  women  and  children  who  had 
taken  refuge  within  the  fort,  with  great  bravery  and  de- 
termination. But  there  was  no  great  general  to  direct 
operations  at  Cawnpore.  Individual  courage  abounded,  but 
the  directing  mind  was  absent.  The  besiegers  pressed  more 
and  more  closely,  until,  at  last,  the  garrison  capitulated 
under  promise  of  safe  conduct  for  all  the  men,  women,  and 
children  to  Allahabad. 

But  tlie  treacherous  villainy  of  the  bloodthirsty  Nana 
Sahib  was  not  then  known  ;  his  promises  were  believed,  the 
fort  was  surrendered,  and  the  men,  women,  and  children  em- 
barked on  beats  for  ])assage  to  Allahabad.  No  sooner  were 
they  well  aboard  before  orders  came  from  Nana  to  fire  on 
the  boats  and  to  burn  the  straw  thatch  with  which  they 
were  covered. 

A  murderous  volley  was  jjouihhI  upo'i  the  unprotected 
boats,  and  of  all  the  hundreds  of  soldiers  and  civilians  who 
made  up  their  human  freight,  only  four  escaped  by  swimming 
and  diving  and  dodging  the  bullets  until  they  reached  the 


V,   f 


302 


THE   HOUSE   OF   MASSACRE, 


k 


i  1 


mi} 

■1'?  •  f:    1 


opposite  shore.  At  this  juncture  orders  came  from  Nana 
8ahib  to  save  the  women  and  cliildren  alive,  after  all  the 
men  had  been  killed. 

The  women  were  crowded  together  in  a  little  building', 
afterwards  known  as  the  "House  of  ]\[assacre."  Two  hun- 
dred and  one  were  thrown  into  two  rooms,  twenty  feet  by  ten 
in  dimensions.  Here  they  were  kept  in  mortal  and  momen- 
tarv  terror  of  their  lives  for  a  few  davs,  until  at  last  the 
Nana,  hearing  that  Havelock  was  on  his  way  to  the  rescue, 
and  thinking  that  he  would  not  be  so  eager  to  make  the 
attack  if  he  knew  that  all  were  dead  whom  he  had  come  to 
rescue,  sent  his  soldiers  to  murder  the  women  who  were 
confined  in  their  narrow  quarters. 

The  soldiers  would  not  obey  his  orders,  and  then  the 
bloodthirsty  Avretch  sent  five  professional  butchers  with 
knives  and  hatchets  to  kill  these  frail  and  beautiful  English 
women  and  their  lovely  daughters.  It  took  the  butchers  an 
hour  and  a  half  to  finish  their  horrid  task,  and  for  each 
woman  killed  they  received  one  rupee.  Then  when  the 
awful  massacre  was  completed  and  the  clotted  blood,  ankle 
deep  in  the  House  of  Massacre,  began  to  ooze  out  under  the 
doorsills,  the  bodies  Avere  rudely  dragged  out  of  the  door 
and  thrown  into  a  well  near  by. 

From  some  of  the  bodies  the  breath  of  life  had  not  yet 
departed,  but  all  were  ruthlessly  thrown  into  the  horrible 
pit.  AVhat  a  contrast  to  these  scenes  of  blood  and  carnage 
is  the  peaceful  Cawnpore  of  to-day!  No  rude  alarms  of 
raging  foes  to-day  disturb  the  silence  of  the  beautiful  garden 
which  surrounds  the  spot  where  the  House  of  Massacre  once 
stood,  and  the  well  hard  by  into  which  the  bodies  were 
thrown.  Around  the  Avell  is  a  tasteful  stone  enclosure 
several  feet  high,  through  which  one  enters  by  an  iron  gate- 
way into  the  precincts  of  this  most  melancholy  and  pathetic 


THE   ANGEL   OF  REMEMBRANCE. 


363 


or 


of  all  spots  in  India.  Over  the  well  rises  a  l)eaiitiful  white 
marble  angel  with  outstretched  wings,  bearing  in  either 
hand  a  triumphant  palm  branch, —  a  beautiful  design  most 
beautifully  executed. 

Around  the  mouth  of  the  old  well,  beneath  the  marble 
angel,  is  the  inscription  in  old  English  characters : 

"Sacre&  to  tbc  ifficmorg  of  tbe  Great  Compang  of  Cbristiaii  pco* 
pic,  Cbicflg  IClomcn  anC>  CbilOvcn,  CrucllB  /RassacrcO  IHcar  tbis 
Spot  be  tbe  IRcbel  Ittana  Sablb  an&  Cbrown,  tbe  Bging  witb  tbe 
DcaD,  into  tbe  mcll  JBcneatb,  on  tbe  I5tb  Dag  of  5ulg,  1857." 

In  the  beautiful  Memorial  church  which  marks  the  spot 
where  the  heaviest  fighting  occurred  before  the  capitulation 
of  the  fort,  are  many  inscriptions  which  stirred  my  soul  as  I 
read  them  with  the  memory  of  the  horrible  butchery,  per- 
petrated so  near,  fresh  in  mind.  One  of  tiiese  inscrijitions  on 
a  tablet  reared  by  a  widow  in  memory  of  her  husl)an(l  who 
had  here  lost  his  life,  is:  "Vengeance  is  mine,  I  will  repay, 
saitli  the  Lord."  Another :  "  "We  reckon  that  the  suffei'ings 
of  this  present  time  are  not  worthy  to  be  compared  with  the 
glory  which  shall  be  revealed.-'  Still  another,  most  appro- 
priate and  touching  of  all :  "  These  are  they  which  have 
come  out  of  great  tribulation.'' 

Only  about  forty  miles  from  Cawnpore  is  the  still  more 
famous  city  of  Lucknow,  for  here  were  gathered  together  in 
the  "  Ilesidencv,"  Avhich  Avas  hastily  fortified  at  the  l)Oi>'in- 
ning  of  the  mutiny  by  Sir  Henry  Lawrence,  no  less  than 
2,242  ])ersons,  men,  women,  and  children.  Here  for  eiglity- 
seven  <hiys,  by  a  snuUl  handful  of  troops  as  compared  with 
the  tens  of  thousands  wlio  l)esieged  them,  they  were  de- 
fended, until  the  brave  General  Ilavelock,  with  his  "Saints," 
who  could  always  be  reHed  upon  for  bravery  in  action  and 
clemency  in  victory,  relieved  the  i)lace  and  rescued  their 
countrvmen. 


iiii 


;]G4 


THE  RESTING-PLACE   OF   HEROES. 


t 


1  I 

i  I 


!,  i     1 


Mn 


11 


Soon  after  the  investment  of  the  city  by  the  mutineers, 
the  brave  Lawrence,  avIio  divides  with  Ilavelock  the  honors 
of  Lucknow,  was  struck  bv  a  shell,  and,  after  two  davs  of 
suffering-,  during  which  he  directed  and  advised  and  inspired 
his  troops,  he  died,  crying  out :  "  Xever  surrender.  Remem- 
ber Cawnpore.  Save  tiie  women  and  children."  Here,  the 
scene  of  his  heroism,  is  Lawrence's  fitting  monument  with 
the  world-famed  inscription  upon  it : 

"fjcrc  Hc0  one 
mho  trieO  to  Oo  bis  Outs." 

Never  did  man  better  deserve  this  simple  but  compre- 
hensive eulogy.  His  dying  directions  were  carried  out  to 
the  letter;  the  brave  spirit  which  left  his  body  on  July  4, 
1S57,  seemed  to  find  a  dwelling-i)lace  in  every  common 
S()ldier  during  the  awful  months  of  the  siege. 

General  llavelock's  tr()0])s,  Avhicli  at  first  came  to  raise 
the  siege,  were  themselves  invested  and  beleaguered  by  the 
rebel  Sahib's  scores  of  thousands;  but  at  last  Sir  Colin 
Cam|)bell,  with  a  still  larger  force,  came  to  the  rescue  of  the 
rescuers,  and,  under  TLivelock's  supervision,  the  women  and 
children  Avere  all  CDUveyed  in  safety  from  their  long  im- 
prisonment and  taken  to  Allahabad. 

Only  a  few  days  after  the  successful  completion  of  this 
bravest  rescue  in  the  annals  of  history,  the  noble  Ilavelock, 
yiehling  to  mortal  illness  Aviiich  had  come  to  him  in  the  per- 
formance of  his  duty,  was  laid  low,  and  he  is  buried,  not  in 
Westminster  Abbey,  as  his  bravery  and  devotion  deserve, 
but  in  a  lonely  grave  some  three  miles  from  the  Kesidency 
which  he  rescued  and  defended. 

Seldom  have  I  been  mor(i  doe])ly  moved  than  Avhen  visit- 
ing this  scene  of  lu'roic  and  jxithetic  memory.  The  Tlesi- 
dency  is  now  a  mass  of  ruins  situated  in  the  midst  of  beauti- 
ful gardens ;  but  well  preserved  ruins  they  are,  for  great 


THE   RUINED  RESIDENCY. 


365 


'O 


it- 
si- 
ti- 
nit 


i 


pains  are  taken  by  the  English  government  to  mark  and  pro- 
tect every  reminder  of  the  defense  and  relief  of  Lucknow. 

Beautiful  vines  and  creepers,  all  ablaze  with  blossoms, 
cover  the  ruined  walls  of  the  Ilesidency.  Here  is  the  spot, 
we  said  to  ourselves,  where  men  and  women  of  the  same 
flesh  and  blood  as  ourselves,  for  weary  day  after  weary  day, 
heard  the  whiz  of  bullet  and  the  shriek  of  whirring  shell. 

Here  was  the  banqueting  hall  transformed  into  a  hospital, 
where  hundreds  of  poor  fellows  with  mangled  limbs,  bleed- 


MOSQUK  OF  THE  GREAT   IMAMBAIIA,   LUCKNOW. 

ing  and  dying,  were  brought  to  spend  their  last  weary  days 
under  the  broiling  sun  of  tropical  India. 

Here  most  interesting  of  all  is  the  "  Tvekhana,"  where 
the  women  were  im])risone(l  dui'ing  the  siege.  This  is  an 
underground  cellar  with  lofty  walls,  which  was  deemed  the 
safest  place  in  any  ]iart  of  the  Residency.  Two  hundred 
and  ninety-nine  women  were  crowtled  into  this  one  cellar  for 
many  dreadful  weeks.  The  fierceness  of  the  siege  and  the 
way  in  which  evei'v  exposed  portion  was  battered  by  the 
sharpshooters  of  the  Rebel  Army,  are  well  indicated  in  this 


I: 


4l 


iiirjii' 


■i 


irr 


;.  1 


3G6 


SUFFERINGS   OF   IMPRISONED   WOMEN. 


in 


pl\ 

\            ' 

pu  ^ 

If  ^'  1  i  J 

4  \ 


room  of  suffering  and  death.  Only  three  or  four  very  small 
windows  at  the  top  of  this  room  admit  the  light  and  air. 
They  all  slo))e  upwards  and  are  overshaded  by  the  projecting 
buildings  overhead,  so  that  it  seems  impossible  for  a  bullet 
or  a  cannon-ball  to  find  its  way  within  this  secure  retreat. 
Ilowev'er,  the  battered  walls  show  that  many  and  iiKiny  a 
shell  exploded  within  the  cellar. 

One  hole  is  pointed  out  to  us  by  the  guide  (an  old  sol- 
dier, by  the  way,  who  came  to  the  rescue  Avith  Ilavelock's 
army),  made  by  a  cannon-ball  Avhich  swept  a  baby  out  of  its 
mother's  arm  without  injuring  the  mother,  while  it  ])inned 
the  bleeding,  mangled  remains  of  the  little  one  against  the 
wall  near  which  the  mother  was  leaning,  spattering  all  the 
walls,  as  well  as  the  mother's  breast,  with  the  baby's  gore. 
No  wonder  that  the  legends  of  tlie  place  go  on  to  say  that 
the  mother  went  insane. 

Another  hole  in  the  wall  is  shown  us,  made  by  a  cannon- 
ball  which  whizzed  so  near  a  Avoman's  ear  that  she  fell  dead, 
killed  by  fright,  though  unharmed  by  so  much  as  a  scratch 
from  the  ball. 

During  this  dreadful  siege,  eight  or  ten  babies  Avere  born 
in  the  Tyekhana,  most  of  whom,  strange  to  sav,  lived  to  the 
estate  of  manhood  and  womanhood.  To  scores  of  the  brave 
men  Avho  defended  the  Eesidency  during  that  awful  siege,  as 
Avell  as  to  Sir  Henry  LaAvrence  and  Gen.  Ilavelock,  may  be 
applied  the  thrilling  verses : 

"  Here  rest  thee,  Cluistian  warriors,  rest  from  thy  two-fold  strife  ; 
The  battlc-tield  of  India,  the  battlefield  of  life." 

While  of  the  tAvo  great  generals  and  commanders  Avho  lie 
interred  near  by  may  be  sung  with  full  assurance  of  faith : 

"  The  gallimt  chiefs  of  gallaut  meu  are  inon;  tlian  couqucrors  now." 
One  more  city  we  must  visit  before  avu  end  this  most 


i^* 


THE  PERFECTION  OF  ARCHITECTURAL  ART. 


3G7 


lie 


interesting  and  memorable  journey  —  the  city  of  the  Taj 
Mahal — a  city  justly  famous  for  the  one  perfect  work  of 
architectural  art  in  all  the  world. 

Agra,  the  city  of  the  Taj,  lies  about  a  day's  journey  from 
Lucknow.  Its  chief  gem  is  the  one  building  that  never  dis- 
appoints the  traveler  ;  the  one  glorious  pile  that  fultills  every 
anticipation.  The  Taj  bursts  upon  the  bewildered  view  as  a 
thing  of  beauty  and  reinains  a  joy  forever.  It  is  not  a  tem- 
ple, as  many  people  suppose,  but  a  mausoleum  built  by  the 
great  Mogul,  Shah  Jehan,  over  his  beautiful  Empress 
"  Moom-tiij,'  who,  by  her  beauty,  her  grace,  her  intellectual 
abilit}'',  and  her  Avinning  Avays,  had  obtained  such  power  over 
the  Emperor,  that  when  she  came  to  die  she  made  him  prom- 
ise that  he  would  not  marrv  arain,  and  that  he  would  build 
the  most  beautiful  tomb  in  the  Avorkl  over  her  remains  to 
perpetuate  her  name. 

She  died  in  1031,  and  immediately  the  bereaved  Mogul 
set  about.  the  task  of  fulfilling  his  promise,  and  of  building 
the  wonderful  tomb  which  is  known  by  all  the  world  as  the 
"  Taj  Mahal."  It  is  situated  in  the  midst  of  a  beautiful  gar- 
den of  palms  and  banyan  trees,  liowering  shrubs  and  bril- 
liant creepers,  fountains  and  marble  tanks  full  of  gold  fish. 

On  three  sides  are  huge  mostpie-like  gateways  of  brown 
sandstone  inlaid  with  marble,  so  that  one  does  not  see  the 
glories  of  the  Taj  until  he  enters  through  these  massive  lofty 
])ortals,  and  the  magnificent  building  breaks  at  once  ujKm 
his  gaze.  As  the  traveler  beholds  it  first  against  the  intense 
blue  of  the  Indian  sky,  the  white  dome  seems  to  be  soaring 
into  the  sky,  so  light  and  airy  is  the  substantial  architecture. 

^V^i  were  struck  dumb  by  the  beautiful  spectacle,  and 
dro]ii)ing  upon  a  marble  seat  at  the  very  entrance  of  the 
gardens,  we  feasted  our  eyes  upon  this  most  splendid  of 
buildings.     As  we  enter  the  mausoleum,  astonisiiment  at  the 


368 


MARVELOUS   DECORATIONS. 


I     i 


Mi 


'  I; 


il', 


n 


magnificence  and  beauty  of  the  building  gives  place  to 
amazement  at  the  delicate  wo!'k  which  is  inwrought  in  every 
part  of  the  structure.  PijHshed  marble  and  ])recious  stones 
of  every  descri})tion  abountl  antl  are  wrought  into  the  white 
marble  both  without  and  within.  On  the  Empress's  tomb, 
Avorked  into  figures  of  flowers,  are  all  kinds  of  precious 
stones,   bloodstones  and   agates,  jasper  and  turquoise    and 


THE   TA.I   MAIIAI,. 


lapis  lazuli  of  fabulous  cost.  In  one  flower  alone,  in  an 
obscure  corner  of  the  tomb,  are  thirty-five  specimens  of 
brilliant  carnelian  ;  in  another  leaf  forming  a  single  petal  of 
a  carnation  are  twenty-three  different  stones.  In  still 
another  flower  are  30U  different  jewels  formed  into  an  exqui- 
site rose. 

But  the  hand  of  the  vandal  had  not  been  withlield  even 
from  this  most  excpiisite  production  of  the  ages.  Some  of 
these  jeweled  flowers  have  been  picked  to  pieces,  and  the 


DESECRATED  BY  TOURISTS. 


369 


precious  stones  of  wliicli  they  were  niiulc  carried  awa}' ; 
while  on  the  small  crystal  windows  the  tourist  has  fre(|uentl y 
cut  his  conimoni)laco  name.  Ilei'c  we  tlnd  that  "•  W.  C. 
Smith"  and '' Jane  IIig;yinl)ottom "  have  tried  to  immortal- 
ize themselves.  I  wish  that  I  could  hold  them  up  to  })erpet- 
ual  ifrnominv  for  their  vandalism. 

Before  we  leave  A<^ra  one  nioi-e  i)lace  claims  our  atten- 
tion, the  palace  where  the  beautiful  ([iicen  lived.  It  was 
built  by  her  husband's  grandfather,  ])ut  hirgely  beautified  by 
her  own  taste  and  her  husband's  generosity.  The  i)rivate 
rooms  of  the  queen  are  embellished  in  the  same  way  as  her 
tomb.  Iler  bathroom  is  called  the  "  room  of  mirrors,"  and 
is  ornamented  with  thousands  of  tiny  looking-glasses.  In 
the  niches  of  the  Avails  Avere  jilaced  fairy  lamps  over  which 
water  flowed  in  an  illuminated  stream  to  the  bath  beneath. 
In  another  part  of  the  ])alace  is  the  place  where  the  king 
played  parchesi  Avith  his  tAventy-four  Avives,  sitting  in  the 
middle  square  Inmself,  Avhile  each  of  his  avIa'cs  in  a  (lifferent 
colored  costume,  occu])ied  one  of  the  tAventy-fourscpuiresof  the 
tesselated  pavement,  and  moved  backAvard  and  forward  as 
he  commanded,  until  at  last  she  got  into  the  "home  circle" 
Avhich  surrounded  his  august  majesty.  From  tins  royal 
model  has  come  the  game  so  ]K)])uhir  Avith  the  children  of 
America.  In  still  another  ])art  of  the  palace  we  saw  the 
raised  dais  from  wliich  the  king  and  his  beautiful  (pieen 
looked  over  the  ])arapet  into  the  A'alley  beneath,  Avhere  the 
ele])hants  and  tigers  Avere  com])elle(l  to  fight  for  their  delec- 
tation. Those  were  barbai'ic  days  in  Avhich  the  palace  and 
the  Taj  Avere  built. 

But  we  must  not  linger.  Our  time  for  the  Avonders  of 
Korthern  India  is  exhausted,  and  Ave  nuist  huri'v  on  to  the 
sea])ort  of  Bombay,  carrying  Avith  us  tln-oughout  all  ourliA'es 
enduring  memories  of  the  exquisite  "Jewel  of  Agra." 


r^ 


', '  i ) 


>  II 


CHAPTER   XX. 

ACROSS  THE  INDIAN  OCEAN  — TIIKOUGII  THE   GREAT 

DITCH. 

Some  of  our  Fellow  Passengers  —  Missionaries  and  Men  of  ^fars  —  The 
Little  Athletes  —  Potato  Uaces  and  Hurdle  Jumping  —  The  l{ed  Sea  — 
A  (}liini)se  of  Sinai  --"And  a  Jhdf,  Eight"  —  Wailing  our  Turn  —  A 
Huge  Jaek  o'  Lantern  —  A  Sight  Long  to  be  Remembered  —  A  Stu- 
pendous Enterprise  —  A  Tarnished  Name  —  Canal  Diggers  before  De 
Lesseps —  In  the  Canal  —  Ismaliaand  her  Donkeys —  "  Yankee  Doodle  " 
and  "Washy  Washington" — Undeniable  Desert  —  A  Woman  with  a 
Supidementary  Nose  —  Our  First  (ilimjise  of  the  Redouin  —  A  Family 
of  Arabs  —  The  Land  of  Goshen  —  Pharaoh  and  his  Prime  Minister  — 
Bricks  without  Straw  — The  Fellahin  and  How  They  Live  — Their 
Superstitions — "  O,  Virgin  IMary" — "The  Sun  Do  Move" — The 
Blessings  Brought  by  Joim  Bull  —  A  Ghostly  Reminder  —  How  They 
Carry  the  Babies — "Backsheesh,  Backsheesh" — "Oh  Sugar  for  a 
Nail"— "God  Will  Make  Them  Light,  Oh  Lemons"  — The  Little 
"Sons  of  the  River." 


E  who  makes  the  vova^e  across 
the  Indian  Ocean  from  Bombay 
to  Ismalia  has  nothing  of  ocean 
horrors  to  dread,  at  least  in  the 
month  of  February,  Avhen  it  was 
our  good  fortune  to  make  the 
journey.  The  majestic  steamer 
sailed  steadily  on,  day  after  day, 
over  rippling  blue  seas,  while  at 
night  she  seemed  to  be  cutting 


her  way    through    wavelets    of 

molten   silver,   so  bright  is   the 

phos])horescence  of  these  Eastern  Avaters.     Even  the  poorest 

sailor  suffered  no  qualms  of  seasickness,  and  men,  women, 

and  children  all  enjoyed  themselves  in  their  own  Avay,  as 

their  tastes  and  habits  dictated. 

(370) 


,  < 


A  FROLIC  ON  DECK. 


371 


# 


Among  our  passcngoi's  avcm-o  many  officers  of  the  English 
army,  avIio  were  going  liomo  on  a  furlough,  and  whoso  «>\'- 
idont  (lolight  at  the  thought  of  seeing  the  green  lieUls  and 
cooling  fogs  of  old  England,  after  years  on  the  ai'id  plains  of 
India,  was  as  keen  and  fresh  as  that  of  a  schoollxn'  on  his 
way  home  for  his  Christnuis  liolidays.  Annmg  the  ])assen- 
gers,  also,  were  numy  faitidul  missionaries,  whose  service  is 
far  more  arduous  and  far  less  remunerative;  than  thc^  work 
of  the  men  of  ^lars.  These  brave  sokliei's,  too.  dcsci've  an 
occasional  holiday,  and  some  of  them,  woi-n  and  wearied 
and  quite  broken  in  healtii,  after  years  of  service,  wei'e  going 
ba'ck  for  a  shoi't  period  of  rest  to  their  homes  in  America 
and  England, 

It  so  happened  that  among  these  missionary  and  military 
families  were  numy  ciiildren  of  all  ages  and  sizes,  and  a  very 
hap])y  day  was  given  them  when  we  all  arranged  lor  a 
series  of  races  between  the  little  folks,  Avith  bright  ru})ees 
for  prize  money.  There  "vvere  straightaway  races  round  the 
deck,  in  which  an  eager-faced  little  girl,  not  more  than  five 
years  old,  won  most  triumphantly,  passing  the  line  red- 
cheeked  and  panting,  but  full  of  gladness  that  she  had 
beaten  her  older  brothers  and  sisters,  even  though  she  was 
given  a  long  start  at  the  beginning.  Then  there  were  three- 
legged  contests  and  potato  races,  marvelous  juvenile  feats  in 
hurdle-jumping,  and  all  kinds  of  games  for  all  ages  to  ])artici- 
pate  in,  A  brave  major,  with  battle-scars  seaming  his  face, 
was  the  starter,  a  warlike  captain  was  the  time-kee])er,  and 
a  heroic  missionary  was  the  judge;  and  it  is  strongly  sus- 
pected that  the  warriors  and  the  missionaries  enjoyed  the 
afternoon  quite  as  much  as  the  children  themselves. 

After  four  or  five  days  of  smooth  seas  and  pleasant 
weather  the  Vietorni  entered  the  lied  Sea,  which  is  so  wide 
in  many  parts  that  the  sensation  is  not  that   of  sading 


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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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372 


THROUGH  THE  RED  SEA. 


» 


through  a  narrow  canal  with  land  on  either  side,  as  one 
would  think  when  studying  the  maj),  but,  for  the  most  part, 
one  imagines  that  he  is  on  the  boundless,  shoreless  sea.  To 
be  sure,  once  in  a  while,  we  see  some  bold  i)romontory  in 
the  distance  or  some  towering  mountain  looming  up  on  the 
hazy  horizon,  and  occasionally  we  })ass  near  a  rock}',  surf- 
beaten  island ;  but,  until  the  steamer  reaches  the  narrow 
Gulf  of  Suez,  at  the  northern  end  of  the  Red  Sea,  there  is 
but  little  difference  between  one's  sensations  here  and  upon 
the  broadest  ocean.  In  fact,  the  north  wind,  which  often 
draws  through  this  channel  between  the  mountains  quite 
fiercely,  frequently  makes  the  sea  rougher  than  the  surface 
of  the  neighboring  Indian  ocean. 

As  we  approached  Suez  the  eyes  of  all  the  passengers 
■were  strained  to  catch  sight  of  Mount  Sinai,  that  mountain 
■which  more  than  any  other  on  the  earth's  surface  has 
affected  the  destinies  of  mankind ;  but  it  is  very  rarely  that 
one  gets  even  a  glimpse  of  the  Mountain  of  the  Law,  for 
only  on  the  clearest  day,  when  the  air  is  absolutely  trans- 
parent, can  it  be  seen  from  the  steamer's  deck.  This  condi- 
tion rarely  prevails  in  these  latitudes,  and  the  captain  of  our 
steamer  told  me  that  only  on  three  occasions,  although  he 
had  sailed  up  and  down  the  shores  of  the  Red  Sea  for  half 
his  lifetime,  has  he  caught  a  glim])se  of  the  mountain  that 
once  (pinked  and  smoked  Avitli  lire  and  brimstone. 

Toward  evening  of  a  beautiful  bright  day  in  February 
Ave  approached  the  low  shores  of  Suez,  and  could  descry  the 
magniticent  embankment  Avhich  indicates  the  entrance  to  the 
Suez  canal,  that  marvel  of  modern  engineering  skill.  The 
channel  by  which  the  ajiproach  is  made  to  the  canal  is  nar- 
row, the  currents  are  treacherous,  and  the  Avater  on  either 
hand  is  shallow,  so  that  great  care  must  be  taken  by  the 
larger  steamers  in  ai)proaching  the  entrance.     For  some 


REVELATIONS  OF  THE  SEARCHLIGHT. 


373 


time  before  we  anchored,  waiting  for  our  turn,  the  quarter- 
master on  either  side  of  our  steamer  was  casting  the  lead, 
and  singing  out  in  musical  accents  to  the  pilot  on  the  bridge 
the  deptli  of  water  beneath  our  keel.  One  quartermaster 
would  cry  out,  "And  a  half,  eight."  The  next  instant  the 
quartermaster  on  the  other  side  ^\'ould  respond,  "  And  a  half, 
seven,"  showing  that  the  water  was  rapidly  growing  shallow 
and  a  fathom  less  was  between  us  and  the  bottom  than  a 
moment  before.  Then  the  first  quartermaster  would  chant, 
"And  a  quarter,  seven,"  while  the  one  on  the  other  side,  in 
a  kind  of  antiphonal  response  would  answer:  "And  three 
quarters,  six." 

Thus  we  felt  our  way  along,  avoiding  the  shoals  and  the 
sandbanks,  and  then  had  to  cast  anchor  for  several  hours, 
waiting  for  our  turn  to  come  to  enter  the  great  ditch. 

Night  came  on,  and  the  stars  came  out,  but  even  the  stars 
were  paled  by  the  brilliant  electric  searchlight  from  the 
tower  at  the  entrance  of  the  canal,  which  swept  around  in 
every  direction,  bringing  out  every  yardarm,  sail,  smokestack, 
and  huge  trumpet-like  ventilator  on  the  vessels  about  us,  in 
startling  relief.  Suddenly,  as  we  were  gazing  out  into  the 
darkness,  thinking  that  no  object  was  within  the  range  of 
our  vision,  the  great  fan-lilce  wave  of  light  would  sweep 
towards  us  and  rest  for  an  instant  upon  a  full  rigged  vessel, 
which  would  seem  to  start  out  of  the  blackness  like  a  ghostl}'- 
visitor.  For  an  instant  the  light  would  play  over  its  huge 
bulk  like  a  vast  enveloping  jack-o'-lantern,  and  then  Avould 
swee})  on  to  reveal  other  objects  beyond. 

It  was  a  sight  long  to  be  remembered  and  worthy  even 

of  the  marvelous  days  of  the  Pharaohs  themselves,  who  were 

supposed  to  be  versed  in  all  the  occult  wonders  of  mystic 

lore.     This  ghastly  white  light,  sweeping  about,  ap])arently 

at  its  own  pleasure,  seemingly  undirected  and  erratic  in  its 
id 


371     UNION  OF  THE  RED   SEA  AND   THE  MEDITERRANEAN. 


I' 


¥ 


'  movements,  ferreting  out  all  things  within  its  range,  glorify- 
ing the  floating  seaweed  and  the  flotsam  and  jetsam  borne 
by  the  tide,  as  well  as  the  huge  man-of-war  and  leviathan 
merchant  ship ;  this  modern  miracle,  I  believe,  would  have 
astounded  the  miracle-workers  of  old  with  all  their  Egyi)tian 
learning. 

The  IGth  of  November,  1869,  was  a  day  long  to  be  re- 
membered in  the  history  of  the  world,  for  that  day  witnessed 
the  wedding  festivities  of  the  Red  Sea  and  the  Mediterranean. 


IN   THE  8UKZ   CANAL. 


On  that  day  was  inaugurated  the  vast  enterprise  of  which 
the  ages  had  dreamed  and  which  the  ingenuity  and  persever- 
ance of  the  great  French  engineer  had  made  possible. 
Nearly  one  hundred  million  dollars  had  the  canal  cost ;  and 
it  is  said  that  the  Khedive  spent  no  less  than  twenty  millions 
of  dollars  in  the  ceremonies  of  the  inauguration. 

It  will  be  readily  seen  of  what  inestimable  value  the 
canal  is  to  the  commercial  world,  Avhen  we  remember  that  it 
reduces  the  distance  from  London  to  Bombay  from  1 2,500 
to  7,000  miles,  a  saving  of  nearly  one-half.     From  London 


THE  FIRST  WATERWAY  BETWEEN  THE  TWO  OCEANS.     375 


to  Ilong  Kong  the  distance  is  over  15,000  miles  by  tlie  Cape 
of  Good  Hope,  and  only  11,000  miles  by  the  canal ;  while 
from  Marseilles  to  Bombay,  the  distance  by  the  Cape  is  over 
12,000  miles,  by  the  canal  only  5,000,  a  saving  of  nearly 
sixty  per  cent.  But  not  only  is  the  canal  a  stupendous  and 
successful  enterprise  from  a  commercial  point  of  view,  but  it 
is  as  successful  financially  as  in  every  other  aspect.  The 
tolls  amount  to  many  millions  of  dollars  every  year,  and  are 
constantly  increasing. 

But  it  must  not  be  thought  that  in  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury was  first  conceived  the  project  of  a  waterway  between 
the  two  oceans,  or  that  De  Lesseps'  fertile  brain  was  the  first 
to  evolve  this  gigantic  scheme.  From  the  very  earliest 
days  there  was  an  overland  route  between  the  Mediterra- 
nean and  the  Red  Sea,  but  it  is  said  that  Sethi  I,  the  great 
prince  of  the  nineteenth  Egyptian  dynasty,  desirous  of  trans- 
porting his  navies  from  one  sea  to  the  other,  built  the  first 
canal.  A  representation  of  his  time  on  the  wall  of  the  ban- 
quet hall  of  Karnac,  tells  us  that  on  his  victorious  return 
from  Egypt  the  conqueror  traversed  a  canal,  swarming  with 
crocodiles  and  defended  by  bastions. 

But  Father  Time  has  a  great  fashion  of  defacing  and  de- 
stroying the  mighty  works  of  man.  If  Avitli  his  tooth  he 
can  gnaw  away  the  pyramids,  he  has  little  difficulty  in  fill- 
ing up  a  ditch,  however  vast  it  may  be,  or  however  impor- 
tant to  the  commerce  of  the  world.  And  so  it  came  about, 
as  the  centuries  went  on,  and  lesser  men  occupied  the  throne 
of  the  Pharaohs,  and  the  people  relapsed  into  commercial  in- 
difference, that  this  canal  was  obliterated,  and  even  its 
course  cannot  be  discovered  to-day. 

But  eight  hundred  years  after  the  Pharaoh  who  built  the 
first  canal,  came  Pharaoh  Xekho,  who  was  very  desirous  for 
the  welfare  of  his  country.     lie  began  to  construct  a  canal 


370      ANCIENT   CANALS,  E(JYI"riAN,  I'KKSIAN,  AM)    UOMAN. 


Ixitwccn  Ui(!  Nilo  smd  tlu5  Red  St^ii,  Jind  it  is  said  that  no  loss 
than  12(»,<M)(»  K;4V|)tiaMs  |K'i'ish<'(l  wliilc  cii^a^cd  in  this  work. 
It  was  al't(!)'wai'ds  al)aii(loiU!d,  hc'caiise  thr  oi'achi  tohl  I'ha- 
raoh  that  the  harhai'iaiis  nUiUv,  would  |H'olit  by  1h(^  woi-k. 
However,  the  woi'lc  ali'eady  acH^oiiiplislied,  and  Wu)  lives 
lost,  did  not  ^o  alto;.^('lliei'  for  nothing,  I'oi'  the  canal  was 
('()in|)leted  l»y  Dai'ius,  the  <^i'eat  loiiiMh'!"  of  the  I'er'sian 
Empire,  th(i  sani(!  Darius  of  whom  we  read  in  th(5  I'ook  of 
Daniel,  who  has  Usl't  in  many  ways  the  impress  of  Ids  mighty 
personality  upon  thcs  woi-id. 

Even  as  lat(i  as  tiui  c<!nturv  imnufdiatcily  Ix'fon!  the 
C/hristian  era,  tl»(3ro  is  no  douht  that  tlu;  i-emains  of  this  oUl 
canal  were  still  found,  foi*  history  tells  us  that  after  the  battle 
of  Aetium,  Oleopatra  ma.de  an  effort  to  eonvey  hor  ships 
across  tlu;  Isthmus  of  Sue/,  in  ord(!r  to  escape  with  her  treas- 
ures fi'om  ()(;tavius.  If  th(!re  had  Immmi  no  canal,  she  would 
not  have  been  foolisii  enough  to  tiy  to  transpoi't  Ikm'  ships 
over  the  land,  though  it  is  pr-obable,  as  tlu;  historians  tell  us, 
that  the  canal  was  in  a  very  dilapidat(!(l  condition. 

Aft(!rwards,  it  is  said  that  the  Romans,  and  later  still,  the 
Arai)s,  reconstruct(Ml  the  old  canal  or  dug  a  newonc^;  but  the 
only  thing  that  scMsms  to  Ixs  certain  about  this  vast  holct  in 
the  ground  is,  that  it  l)ecame  unservic(>al>le  after  the  eighth 
century,  and  foi*  a  thousand  years  tin;  merchants  toilsomely 
sent  their  vesscils  aroimd  thc^  ('ap<' of  (iood  IIojm!,  until  De 
Lessej)s  prov<'d  the  feasibility  of  the  present  canal,  tlu!  possi- 
l)ility  of  its  constnu^tion,  and  with  unbounded  faith  and 
energy  overcanui  the  countless  obstacles  which  lay  Ixstween 
him  and  trium|»hant  success. 

Rut  dui'ing  all  this  time  our  vessel  has  been  anchored 
near  the  entrance  of  tlu;  canal,  waiting  for  the  signal  to  bo 
given  that  the  channel  is  cl(!ar,  and  that  it  is  our  tui*n  to 
<;nter.     At  last   it  comes,  and,  wi'ighing  anchoi-,  stealthily 


'rni{()r(;ji  thk  ghkat  ditch. 


377 


y 

0 

i- 
(l 
•11 

V(l 

he 
to 

iiy 


uiid  slowly,  tlui  ^I'oiit  sliip  swings  witliiii  tlio  bi"«.'iik\vatt;r 
wliicli  (li'lciiKls  tliu  mouth  of  tlio  cjinal,  und  very  slowly  IVels 
its  way  Ix^twcoii  tlio  sundy  banks  that  slrc^tch  away  on  oitiici' 
side.  Tho  groat  dil(!h  is  tweiity-livt^  I'ctit  wid(^  at  tlio  l>ot- 
toiM,  whilo  oil  tho  sui'l'aco  it  is  imioh  wi<lor,  and  soiiKitiinos 
strcitclios  out  into  broad  natural  lakos,  which  saved  tlu;  con- 
structors ol"  the  canal  iniicli  di^^^ing  on  Ihoir  way  from  sea 
to  sea.  TluM'o  is  very  littlo  of  si)ccial  inlcri^st  in  tho  journey 
to  I  smal  ia. 
J  t  takes  !^-,t^^", 
about  (iight 
hours  time, 
so  slowly  do 
tli(!  st(»amors 
|)i'o(!e(!d,  lest 
tlie  wash  of 
wav(!S  which 
they  create 
should  de- 
stroy tho 
banks.  JJut 
at  last  in  tluj 
early  morn- 
in<,'  light,  tho 
little  modern 
town     where 

we  ar(i  to  leave  our  floating  home  comes  in  sight,  and  a 
steam  launch  soon  bears  us  to  i\w  shore. 

There  is  almost  nothing  to  see  in  Ismalia  except  tho 
donkeys  and  the  donk(»y  boys.  The  latter  aro  ul)i(|uitous 
and  most  persistent.  They  meet  you  at  tho  landing;  they 
thrust  their  donkey  in  your  face  and  eyes  as  soon  as  you 
step  ashore.     They  plant  him  befc^re  you,  broadside  on,  to 


DONKKY    HOY    OK    I8MAMA. 


378      "YANKEE  doodle"   AND   "  WASHY-WASHINGTON." 

bar  your  further  progress,  unless  you  mount  and  ride. 
They  sound  his  praises  in  every  note  of  the  gamut.  After 
all  other  recommendations  fail,  they  plead  with  you  to  take 
him  because  of  his  "  lovely  black  eyes."  One  boy  even  rec- 
ommended his  donkey  to  us  as  a  "riglar  masher."  If  they 
suspect  you  of  being  an  American,  they  will  cry  out,  "  Take 
my  donkey.  Master,"  "  My  donkey  is  Yankee  Doodle,"  "  My 
donkey's  name  is  Washington,"  while  one  boy  gravely  as- 
sured us,  thinking  that  he  surely  would  secure  our  patronage 
thereby,  that  his  animal  rejoiced  in  the  name  of  "Washy- 
Washington." 

We  tarry  in  Ismalia  no  longer  than  is  a,bsolutely  nec- 
essary, for  stranger  sights  lure  us  on  to  the  City  of  the 
Califs. 

Taking  the  railway  at  Ismalia,  a  journey  of  a  few  hours 
brings  us  to  the  ancient  city  of  Cairo.  The  first  part  of  the 
way  lies  through  the  desert,  and  a  most  uncompromising 
and  undeniable  desert  it  is.  The  yellow  sand  hems  in  the 
narrow  railway  track  on  every  side,  and  there  is  scarcely  a 
green  thing  far  or  near  to  refresh  the  eyes.  Still,  barren  as 
is  the  country,  its  people  are  of  never-failing  interest. 
Every  railway  station  is  bright  Avith  the  colors  of  the  curious 
costumes  of  men  and  women.  Here  is  an  orange  seller,  for 
instance,  with  her  face  entirely  covered  by  a  hideous  black 
veil,  with  only  a  slit  large  enough  for  two  piercing  black 
eyes  to  shine  through.  Over  her  nose  is  a  curious  brass 
contrivance  like  a  great  supplementary  nose,  which  seems  to 
attach  the  veil  to  the  upper  part  of  the  headdress.  Here  is 
another  woman  -with  a  heavy  water  jar  on  her  head,  which 
she  carries,  standing  proudly  erect,  in  a  way  that  shows 
that  she  has  been  used  to  such  burdens  from  her  earliest 
girlhood.  At  another  station  we  see  a  whole  family  of 
Arabs  squatting  upon  the  platform,  tlie  women  veiled  as 


GREEN  FIELDS  AND  WAVING  PALMS. 


379 


those  we  have  already  described,  though  the  little  girls  are 
allowed  to  go  with  uncovered  faces.  For  the  most  part, 
they  are  a  stupid,  degraded  lot  of  human  beings,  with  noth- 
ing of  aspiration  in  their  eyes,  and  no  desire  to  be  anything 
but  the  hewers  of  wood  and  the  drawers  of  water  which 
they  and  their  ancestors  have  been  for  so  many  centuries. 

After  a  few  miles  of  this  desert  journey,  we  grow  rather 
listless  and  indifferent  to  that  which  may  be  seen  outside  the 


ON  THE   BANKS  OF  THE  NILE. 


car  window,  but  suddenly  we  are  aroused  from  our  indiffer- 
ence by  an  entrancing  sight  of  green  fields  and  fertile  gar- 
dens and  Avaving  palm  trees,  it  is  as  though  we  had  come 
into  a  •  fairy  land,  out  of  a  very  prosaic  workaday  world. 
And  indeed  we  have  entered  fairy  land,  and  the  magician 
that  works  the  wonder  is  none  other  than  old  Father  Tsile. 
He  sends  out  his  life-giving  waters,  and  Avhatever  he  touches 
springs  into  new  life  and  blossoms  like  the  rose.  The  line  of 
demarcation  between  the  desert  and  the  well-favored  lands 


■  \ 


3S0  IN   THE   LAND   OF   JOSEPH   AND   MOSES. 

of  the  Nile  is  clear  and  distinct;  one  moment  the  train  is  in 
the  arid  purgatory  of  the  desert,  the  next  it  is  in  the  smiling 
paradise  of  the  oasis. 

And  this  lirst  fertile  tract  to  which  we  have  come  is  none 
other  than  the  Gosiion  of  the  Bible.  ]S"o  wonder  that  the 
aged  Jacob  rejoiced  when  his  long  pilgrimage  was  over  and 
he  entered  into  this  fair  land.  We  can  understand  better 
than  ever  before  the  great  power  that  Joseph  must  have  en- 
joyed to  be  able  to  secure  this  goodly  land  for  his  father  and 
his  unbrotherly  brothers. 

Off  in  the  distance,  but  a  little  way  from  the  railway 
track,  are  the  fields  where  the  Israelites  made  bricks  without 
straw,  and  perhaps  our  eye  rests  upon  the  very  j)lace  where 
Moses,  rendered  indignant  beyond  the  power  of  control  at 
the  cruelties  which  were  hea])ed  upon  his  suffering  fellow 
countrymen,  slew  the  Egyptian,  and  became  an  exile  from 
the  court  where  he  might  have  reigned  as  a  prince,  "choos- 
ing rather  to  suffer  affliction  with  the  people  of  God  than  to 
enjoy  the  pleasures  of  sin  for  a  season."  Our  hearts  throb 
within  us  as  we  look  out  on  these  historic  sights,  and  realize 
that  these  were  the  same  sandy  plains,  the  same  green  fields, 
watered  then  as  now,  "  with  the  tears  of  the  Nile,"  while  the 
same  cloudless  Egyptian  sky  bent  over  them  as  over  us. 
Out  here  rode  in  majestic  state  the  famous  Prime  Minister 
of  the  Pharaohs,  the  young  man  who,  by  his  own  virtue  and 
force  of  character,  raised  himself  from  the  position  of  a 
captive  peasant  to  a  prince  of  the  realm.  These  roads,  too, 
were  trodden  by  the  feet  of  Aaron,  the  High  Priest,  by 
Miriam,  the  tuneful  singer;  and  along  these  same  highways 
rumbled  the  chariot  wheels  of  the  great  Pharaohs,  who,  as 
world-conquering  rulers,  have  never  been  equaled  by  Greek 
or  Roman,  Turk  or  Briton. 

We  see  very  little,  however,  to  remind  us  of  the  magnifi- 


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«'3'i 

THE  EGYPTIAN'S  OF  TO-DAY. 


383 


cence  of  the  Pharaohs,  oi*  of  the  state  in  which  Joseph  trav- 
eled in  those  early  days.  Most  of  the  yilla<''es  which  we 
pass  are  mean  collections  of  Avretchetl  nuul  houses.  Their 
four  walls  rise  scarcely  higlier  than  the  head  of  a  nuui,  and 
cxcei)t  for  an  occasional  mosque,  with  its  slender  minaret, 
there  is  no  atteni))t  at  architectural  beauty  or  embellishment 
of  any  kind.  Most  of  the  lower  classes  who  swarm  at  the 
railway  stations,  and  whom  we  see  from  the  car  windows, 
"wear  around  their  necks  charms,  written  on  pajier,  and  sewn 
up  in  leather.  They  are  ignorant  and  su])erstitious  to  the 
last  degree,  and  not  only  protect  themselves,  but  tiieir  cattle 
in  the  same  way.  Every  man,  as  he  ])asses  a  saint's  tomb,  it 
is  said,  mumbles  a  prayer  Avithout  stopping,  and,  saints' 
tombs  being  very  numerous,  a  mumbled  ])rayer  is  always  on 
his  li})s.  Some  of  the  great  saints  are  appealed  to  on  every 
possible  occasion.  If  a  nuin  sneezes,  or  is  afflicted  with  the 
liiccoughs,  or  turns  his  ankle  in  the  streets,  he  adjures  his 
favorite  saint.  Even  if  his  legs  are  stiff  as  he  rises  from  his 
seat,  he  exclaims,  "  O  Virgin  Mary !  "  Their  ignorance  is 
beyond  all  comprehension,  the  education  even  of  the  upper 
classes  being  confined  to  the  narrow  limits  of  the  Koran. 
Kot  one  of  them  can  be  convinced  that  the  earth  is  not  fiat, 
■while  they  agree  thoroughly  Avith  Parson  Jasper  in  his  dic- 
tum that  "  the  sun  do  move." 

An  Egyptian  school  is  a  curiosity.  The  pupils  sit  on  the 
floor,  study  their  lessons  aloud,  rocking  back  and  forth,  and 
they  make  the  schoolroom  about  as  noisy  as  a  Avard  political 
meeting.  I  generally  kncAv  Avhere  a  schoolroom  Avas  at  least 
half  a  minute  before  1  reached  its  doors.  The  master  squats 
on  the  floor,  or  stands  among  his  pupils,  Avho  are  seated  in 
roAvs  or  promiscuously  scattered  through  the  apartment. 
Their  lessons  are  given  to  them  upon  slates  or  large  cards, 
and  they  sit  rocking  back  and  forth  and  studying  aloud. 


iA 


r 

i 


884 


THE  DESnSED  EUROPEANS. 


*:>    1 


II 


A  lojirncd  ])ricst,  which  iiuiaiis  a  lujiii  learned  in  the  mys- 
teries of  the  Koran,  indignantly  walked  out  ol'  an  examina- 
tion liall  in  Cairo  recently,  when  told  that  the  scholars  were 
there  taught  that  the  earth  was  round.  No  such  heresy 
would  he  allow  to  have  place  even  f(>r  a  moment  in  his  tlu;- 
olo/i^y.  Every  other  man  is  to  a  Mohammedan  an  inlidel  ; 
and  not  only  an  inlidel,  hut  a  mis(;rahle  and  despicable  inli- 
del, at  that,  who  deserves  stoning  and  torture  and  death, 
though  tlie  laws  unjustly  interfere  in  his  behalf.  Evcm  the 
children  will  gn^et  the  Europojins  on  the  strec^t  with  the 
exclamation:  '•  Va  Nusrani !  "  (()  Kazarene).  The  donkey 
boy  C5ills  out  to  his  ass,  as  he  prods  him  with  a  shai'j)  stick  : 
"  Go  along,  you  son  of  a  pig,  get  on,  you  son  of  alS'azarcne  I  " 

It  is  said  by  those  who  have  lived  long  in  Egypt,  that  the 
centuries  of  oppression  under  hard  task  masters,  and  the 
subservi(!ncy  to  a  false  and  degrading  religion,  hav(i  not  only 
dulled  the  moral  and  intellectual  faculties  of  the  EgyptiaJis, 
but  liav(;  deadcsned  even  their  ])hysical  senses  sis  well.  A 
traveler  and  residiuit  for  tcsn  years  in  Egypt  says  that  the 
sense  of  ])ain  is  vcny  small  among  the  lower  classes,  that  their 
olfactory  nerves  are  also  cxtj'emely  dull,  that  they  cannot 
distinguish  oiu;  piM'son  from  anothej*  by  his  footsteps,  and 
not  easily  by  his  voice,  and  that  they  ncvei*  hear  a  slight  or 
distant  sound,  or  notice;  a  whisper. 

In  tin;  interior  of  the  ))oor  houscis,  whose  outer  walls  we 
SCO  from  the;  train,  is  no  furniture!  worthy  of  the  name.  A 
few  mats,  a  sheepskin,  a  i)asket  or  two,  kc^ttles  for  heating 
water,  and  a  small  array  of  woodcm  disln^s,  is  all  that  we 
lind  within  the  hut,  and  this  hut  is  shan.'d  by  tlu;  hens  and 
the  ducks,  tlu;  goats,  and  the  shcjep  of  the  establishment,  as 
well  as  by  tin;  human  inhabitants,  while;  the  cows  and  bulfa- 
locs  would  have  no  hesitation  in  pushing  their  way  within 
the  doors,  were  they  wide  enough  to  I'cceive  tiium. 


HI. 


FOOD   OF  THE   LOWER  CLASHES. 


385 


Almost  the  only  food  of  llio  laboring  chisst's  is  a  kind  of 
broad  made  of  sorgliuni  Hour  or  of  Indian  coi-n,  wlicaton 
bread  bciin;;^  eaten  only  by  the  wealthy  classes.  For  supper, 
however,  wo  are  told,  even  tin;  poorest  caus(;  a  hot  rej)ast  to 
be  ])re])are(l.  This  usually  consists  of  a  highly  salt(Ml  sauce 
niadc!  of  onions  and  buttcu-,  or,  in  the  jioorer  liouses,  of  butter 
and  lins(;.ed  oil. 

Around  the  low  table  the  various  members  of  tin;  family 
sit,  while  each  member  di|)s  his  \)m'x\  of  bread,  held  in  his 
fingers,  into  this  common  family  sauce.  In  addition  to  this, 
l)ufraloes'  and  goats'  millv,  and  in  tin;  summer,  cucumbers  and 
j)umpkins  are  the  only  addition.  Of  course,  this  meagn!  bill 
of  faro  and  this  wretched  numner  of  life  applies  to  the 
lower  classes  only.  Tlu'ro  is  an  aristocracy  in  Kgypt,  as 
there  is  everywhere  (!lso,  that  clothes  itself  in  purph;  and  lino 
linen  and  lives  up(m  the  fat  of  the  land.  I>ut  the  poverty  of 
the  masses  is  almost  beyond  description. 

Poor  as  it  is,  the  common  ])eoj)l(!  of  Kgypt  were  ])robably 
never  so  well  off  as  they  are  to-day.  From  the  tinn;  of  the 
Israelites  they  have  lived  the  lives  of  serfs.  ()pj)resse(l  by 
the  original  I'haraoh.s,  doubly  oppress(!d  by  each  succeeding 
dynasty,  their  lives  held  cheapen"  than  tlui  very  dirt  of  the 
street,  hundreds  of  thousands  of  them  sacriiiced  in  the  dig- 
ging of  every  great  canal  and  tlu^  building  of  ovcny  gigantic 
])yramid;  it  is  only  within  th<i  memory  of  the  present  gen(!r- 
ation  that  attention  has  been  calhid  to  the  wnitched  con- 
dition of  tlu;  Ftsllahin,  aiul  that  anything  has  been  <lon((  for 
their  relief.  Since  the  English  have  accpiired  a  dominating 
control  in  Kgypt,  their  ben(!li(!ent  rule  has  been  felt  as  in 
other  Kastern  lands.  Onh'i-  has  come  out  of  (-haos,  justice 
has  8ucc(;ede(l  to  tyranny,  and  theoretically,  at  least,  the 
tiller  of  tli(^  soil  can  assert  his  I'ights  as  well  as  tlii'  |)roudest 
descendant  of   the  Pharaohs.     As  a    matter  of    fact,  there 


38G 


DISTINGUISHING  COLOR  OF  THE  TURBAN. 


I) 


is  doubtless  still  very  much  of  oppression  and  iniquitous 
taxation,  for  the  work  of  centuries  cannot  be  undone  in  a 
moment,  or  the  rights  of  a  people  secured  by  a  single  decree. 
However,  Egypt  is  on  the  high  road  to  recovery.  Every 
succeeding  year  sees  a  better  state  of  affairs  in  the  land  of 
the  Nile,  and  the  common  people,  at  least,  should  devoutly 
give  thanks  for  the  interference  of  John  Lull  and  his  red- 
coats. 

But  among  our  fellow-passengers  are  many  others  be- 
sides the  Fellahin  of  the  Xile.  There  are  grave  Mohamme- 
dan dignitaries.  Some  of  these  Moslems  wear  green 
turbans,  showing  that  they  are  descendants  of  the  great 
prophet  himself,  for  no  others  are  allowed  to  wear  this 
color.  Tlie  scholars  wear  a  broad,  evenly-folded  turban  of  a 
light  color,  and  it  is  said  that  the  orthodox  length  of  a 
believer's  turban  is  seven  times  that  of  his  head,  being 
equivalent  to  the  whole  length  of  his  body,  in  order  that  the 
turban  may  afterwards  be  used  as  the  wearer's  winding- 
sheet,  and  that  this  thought  may  familiarize  him  with  the 
prospect  of  death. 

The  Copts,  some  of  whom  we  also  see  among  our  fellow- 
passengers,  or  among  the  loungers  at  the  railway  station, 
wear  a  dark  blue  turban,  and  the  Jews  a  turban  of  yellow, 
since  these  were  the  colors  decreed  in  the  fourteenth  cen- 
tury. 

One  of  the  most  characteristic  things  of  any  country  is 
the  way  in  which  the  children  are  carried.  As  may  well  be 
believed,  such  luxuries  as  baby  carriages  are  unknown  in  the 
East.  In  China  and  Japan  the  babies  are  strapped  upon 
the  backs  of  their  mothers;  in  India  they  are  carried  upon 
their  thighs;  while  in  Egypt  they  are  perched  upon  their 
mother's  shoulders,  the  little  legs  hanging  down  before  and 
behind,  while  they  lean  over  on  their  mother's  head,  and 


CLAIMANTS   FOR  CHARITY 


387 


1 


frequently  go  to  sleep  in  this  seemingly  uncomfortable 
position. 

Of  course  beggars  are  very  common.  You  cannot  step 
off  the  railway  trains,  or  into  the  mosques,  or  turn  the 
corner  of  the  streets,  Avithout  being  besieged  by  some  new 
claimant  for  charity.  Thin,  scrawny,  diseased  hands  are 
thrust  into  your  face  at  every  turn,  and  your  loathing  re- 
pugnance is  more  often  excited  than  pity,  by  the  horrible 
specimens  of  humanity  that  dog  every  footstep.  Men  with 
noses  and  chins  eaten  away  by  cancer,  with  eyes  sealed  and 
corroded  by  countless  sores,  Avitli  finger  joints  twisted  and 
gnarled  by  rheumatism,  or  with  handless  stumps  gradually 
being  eaten  away  by  leprosy,  confront  us  at  every  turn  until 
one  has  to  harden  himself  against  these  sights,  or  else  flee 
incontinently  within  doors,  and  lock  himself  away  from  all 
his  fellow-men. 

Instead  of  politely  saying  good  mor'^ing  to  the  passing 
stranger,  the  beggar  cries  out  to  every  European,  "  Back- 
sheesh, backsheesh ! "  (A  gift,  a  gift.)  The  wise  traveler 
responds  to  all  such  salutations,  "  Ma  fish,  ma  fish ! "  (I  have 
nothing  for  you).  Or,  if  he  wishes  to  vary  the  formula,  he 
Avill  say,  "  Allah  yatik  "  (May  God  give  thee).  This  often 
answers  in  place  of  backsheesh,  and  the  beggar  will  go  away 
quite  as  contented  as  if  he  had  received  what  he  asked  for. 

A  very  common  sight  in  the  great  cities,  as  well  as  in  the 
smaller  towns,  is  the  water  carrier  with  his  goat-skin  of 
water,  Avhich  looks  like  the  great  bloated  carcass  of  an 
animal  carried  on  his  back.  lie  still  plies  his  trade  in  the 
city  of  Cairo,  although  the  city  is  Avell  sujjplied  with  water 
from  the  new  Avater-works.  fetill,  he  passes  along  the  street, 
with  his  heavy  goat-skin  on  his  shoulders,  crying  out  at  the 
toj)  of  his  lungs,  ''  Ya  auwad  Allah  ! "  (May  God  recomi)ense 
me).     Nevertheless,  notwithstanding  his  ])ious  cry,  he  will 


f|r 


388 


DISPENSING  THE   DRINK   OFFEIilNG. 


I 


'I 


» 


be  very  much  disaj)pointe(l  if  any  one  took  a  draft  from  his 
goat-skin  and  left  all  the  recoini)ense  to  Allah. 

On  feast  days,  especially  the  birthilays  of  the  saints, 
pious  Moslems,  desirous  of  securint^  an  easy  entrance  into 
paradise,  frequently  hire  one  of  these  water  carriers  to 
supply  all  comers  with  water  gratuitously.  Then  the  water 
carrier  shouts  in  a  loud  tone,  ''ISebil  Allah  ya'  atshan  ya 
moyeh  ! "  In  this  way  he  invites  all  to  drink  freely,  but  he 
is  very  careful  to  turn  to  his  employer,  who  usually  stands 


I 


d 


WATER-CAHRTERS   FILLING   TIIEIU   GOAT   SKINS. 

near  him  with  a  good  deal  of  ostentation,  saying,  "God  for- 
give thy  sins,  oh  dispenser  of  the  drink  offering,  God  have 
mercy  on  thy  parents ! "  To  which  they  Avho  are  partaking 
of  the  water  reply,  "Amen.  God  have  mercy  on  them  and 
on  us."  After  numerous  blessings  of  a  similar  kind  have 
been  interchanged,  the  sakka' hands  the  last  cup  of  water 
to  his  employer  with  the  Avords:  "The  remainder  for  tiie 
liberal  men.  and  ]iaradise  for  the  confessor  of  the  unity.  God 
bless  thee,  thou  dispenser  of  the  drink  offering." 


;  -4 


STREET  CKIES  OF  THE  ORIENT. 


389 


Many  of  the  other  cries  that  one  hears  in  the  street  or  in 
the  railway  station  are  ecjually  curious.  The  cry  of  the 
orange  merchant  and  the  itinerant  lish  pedtUer  at  home  are 
quite  unintelligible,  though  spoken  in  one's  own  language, 
and  it  can  easily  be  imagined  that  the  street  cries  of  Egypt  are 
quite  beyond  the  comprehension  of  the  passing  tourist.  So, 
without  shame,  we  must  confess  that  we  have  consulted  our 
guide  book  at  this  ))oint  for  the  interpretation  of  these  cries. 

There  is  a  man  with  a  thin  jelly  made  of  starch  and 
sugar.  He  is  crying  out,  "  O  sugar  for  a  nail,  O  confec- 
tion I "  which  unintelligible  cry  indicates  that  he  is  willing 
to  barter  his  jelly  for  a  nail  or  piece  of  old  iron. 

There  is  a  vender  of  lemons,  who  calls  out  to  us  as  we 
pass  by,  "  God  will  make  them  light,  O  lemons ! "  We  turn 
to  Baedeker  to  find  that  he  .neans  to  say,  in  his  highly 
ligurative  and  poetic  language,  that  God  will  help  him  to 
sell  his  lemons,  and  thus  make  his  baskets  light. 

Another  long  cry  of  twenty  syllables  rings  out  on  the  air, 
which,  being  interpreted,  reads  as  follows :  "  Help,  O  help, 
the  lupins  of  Embabeh  are  better  than  almonds!  O  how 
sweet  is  the  little  son  of  the  river ! "  This  cry,  too,  must  be 
interpreted,  when  we  find  that  it  means  that  the  peas  which 
this  vender  has  to  sell  require  to  be  soaked  in  river  water 
some  time  before  they  are  boiled.  On  this  account  they  are 
called  "  Sons  of  the  river,"  antl  their  praises  are  thus  sung 
by  this  poetical  child  of  the  desert. 

By  tiiese  various  sights  and  sounds  and  cries  of  street 
vender  and  beggar,  we  are  welcomed  to  Cairo,  the  magic 
city  of  the  Orient,  and  fintl  ourselves  m  the  country  of  the 
Arabian  nights,  the  capital  city  of  the  Cailifs. 


I' 


11 


CHAPTER  XXI. 
IN  THE  i.Axn  OF  Tin:  imiamaohs  — tiik  most  wonder. 

FLL  MISEUM  IN  THE  WOHED  — THE  MUMMY  OF  PHA 
HAOIl  THE  OPIMtESSOU,  AND  HOW  THE  HODY  WAS  DIS- 
COVERED -  EOOIvING  INTO  I'HAKAOH'S  FACE. 


1 111^ 


11 


1  ! 

H 

■'1 


m 


,13    ■,',' 

il' 


Marvt'lous  Cairo  —  A  Vivacious  Traveler  —  Eyes  wanted  Before  and  Bc- 
liinil  —  Fashion  in  a  Fez  —  .Madam  Grundy  in  Egypt  —  At  the  Sugar 
Cane  Bazaar — A  Glimpse  of  the  Khedive  —  A  Boy  in  a  Fez  —  The 
Flight  into  Egypt  — The  Tree  of  the  Virgin  — How  the  Spider  Out- 
witted Herod — The  Only  Belie  —  Joseph's  Father-in-Law  —  Where 
Josejili  \vas  ]\Iarried  —  The  3[ost  Wonderfid  Museum  in  the  World  — 
A  Boom  Full  of  .Mummies  —  Moses'  Playfellow  —  What  the  Bible  says 
of  Him  —  A  !Mummy  over  Three  Thousand  Years  Old  —  The  Pharaoh 
of  the  Oppression — AVhere  He  was  Buried  —  The  J.ocation  a  Mighty 
Secret  for  Centuries — How  the  Tond)  was  Discovered  —  Unwinding 
the  Mummy  —  How  Piiaraoh  Looked  —  Description  of  the  Body  —  Its 
Identity  Established  —  Where  is  the  Pharaoh  of  the  Exodus  '! 


E   who  travels   around   the   world 
is  apt  to  become  soniewluit  sated 
with  Avoiiders  before  he  reaches 
Egypt.     The  glories  of   Jtipan, 
the  wonders  of  China,  the  ancient 
magnificence  of  India,  in  some 
degree  exluiust  iiis  capacity  for 
sight-seeing;   his   mind   becomes 
o'lutted   with  marvelous  memo- 
ries,  and  it  requires  a  place  of 
unusual   interest    to   arouse    his 
somewhat   flagging   enthusiasm. 
But  Cairo  is  such  a  ])lace.     Coming  to  it  from  the  East 
or  the  West,  its  strange  charm  is  always  felt.     No  traveler 
can  be  so  llant  as  not  to  acknowledge  the  nuigic  of  this  mar- 
velous citv.     The  strange  peo})le,  the  curious  costumes,  the 

( \m ) 


! 


fli 


IN  THE  STREETS  OF  CAIRO. 


393 


mingling  of  the  Occident  and  the  Orient,  the  unfamiliar 
cries  in  the  street,  the  characteristic  crowd  of  all  sorts  and 
conditions  of  men  in  front  of  each  coffee  house,  the  strange 
manners  antl  customs  of  the  bjizaar,  all  furnish  nuiterial 
for  days  of  deliglit  in  the  c}'})ital  of  Egyi)t.     Before  we  go 


STREET  MUSICIANS  A^D  DAXCEHS   OF   CAIKO. 

out  of  the  city  to  see  the  more  marvelous  wonders  beyond  — 
the  pyramids  and  the  sphinx,  which  alone  of  all  the  crea 
tions  of  man  have  defied  the  ravages  of  centuries  —  let  us 
spend  a  little  while  within  the  city  itself. 

Cairo  has  been  compared  by  a  vivacious  writer  to  a 
mosaic  of  the  most  fantastic  and  bizarre  description,  in  which 
all  nations,  customs,  and  epochs  are  re]iresented,  a  living 
museum  of  all  imaginable  and  unimaginable  ])hases  of  exist- 

24 


'  !l 


304 


VKJOKOrs   AIDS  TO    LOCOMOTION. 


ence,  of  rofinoincnt  and  (logoneracv,  of  civiliziitioii  iind  l»ai'- 
barisin,  of  knowledge  and  i«^norance,  of  paf^anisin,  Clii-istian- 
ity,  and  ^roliainniedanisni.  "In  the  boulevards  of  Paris, 
and  on  London  hrid*;*;,"  says  one,  ''  I  saw  hut  the  sluulow, 
and  at  Alexandria  heard  only  the  prelude  of  the  hahel  of 

Cairo,  to  which  tlu;  Uoinan  or 
Venetian  carnival  is  ttniie  and 
coininoni)lace." 

In  order  to  enjoy  tla^so 
thin<j:s  thoronghlv,  one  desires 
eyes  behind  as  well  as  befoi'e, 
and  the  steady  power  of  forc- 
ing' one's  way  possessed  by  the 
camel.  However,  as  a  camel 
is  a  bulk  too  huge  for  these 
narrow  streets,  we  will  hire  a 
donkc}',  with  which,  and  the 
help  of  a  vigorous  and  viva- 
cious boy  behind  to  ])ro(l  him 
Avitli  a  sharp  stick,  and  twist 
his  tail  occasionally  (a  means 
of  urging  to  locomotion  which 
we  cannot  altogether  prevent, 
although  wo  are  sure  that  the 
Society  for  the  Prevention  of 
Cruelty  to  Animals  would  dis- 
ap])rove),  we  can  manage  to  get  through  the  crowd. 

The  experience  of  the  traveler,  Goltz,  is  so  graphically 
tohl,  and  s<j  true  to  the  experience  of  many  another  traveler 
in  Cairo,  that  I  cannot  help  quoting  a  paragraph  from  his 
ple?isant  description.  "  Having  carefully  leai-ned  the  ex- 
pressions '  ana'  a  wiz  humar '  (I  want  a  donkey)  and  '  bikan 
Idrsh  dell '  (how  many  ))iasters?),  I  yiekled  to  the  temptations 


PRAYING  IN  THE  8TUEET8  OK  CAIRO. 


THE   DONKEY   BOYS   OF  CAIRO. 


396 


C 


liis 

F 

■ns 


of  plunging-  recklessly  into  the  thick  of  Arubian  life,  its  con- 
versation and  its  (Mjiiestrianisni.  I  tiierefore  pronounced  the 
mystic  words  "with  the  satisfaction  of  a  child  which  utters 
articulate  expressions  for  the  first  time,  wiien  1  was  instantly 
so  i)erfectlv  undei'st(jod  hv  a  sc(jre  of  (hjidcev  boys  tliat  thev 
all  offered  me  their  donkeys  at  once  ;  though  perhaps  they 
would  have  done  so  had  I 
Tiftt  spolcen  at  all.  T  felt 
like  a  magician  who  has 
succeeded  in  discovering 
an  effectual  fornnda  of 
conjuration.  After  this 
display  of  my  abilities,  I 
vaulted  into  the  sachlle 
with  as  much  ease  and 
assurance  as  if  Cairo  liad 
been  my  home.  The  don- 
key boy  then  ])i'obably 
asked  mo  '  Where  to  ?  \ 
whereu])on,  feeling  that 
my  stock  of  Arabic  phrases 
and  cabalistic  formhue  was 
nearly  exhausted,  1  replied 
in  a  very  abbreviated 
form :  '  K  u  1 1  o ,  K  u  1 1  o ' 
(everything),     moaning 

that  I  wanted  to  see  everything.  The  donkey  boy  then 
nodded  to  this,  'AH  right,  I  understand,'  and  I  now  felt 
perfect  confidence  in  my  powers  of  s})eech. 

"  My  donkey  now  set  off  at  a  gallop  and  plunged  into 
the  midst  of  a  labvrinth  of  lanes  full  of  riders  and  walkers, 
but  Avhere  I  was  going,  or  how  fai-,  or  why,  I  was  unable  to 
tell.     That,  howevei\  was  precisely  the  joke  of  the  thing." 


LATTICED  WINDOWS  —  CAIRO. 


u 


806 


FASHIONS  IN   FEZZES. 


}i 


I  ■' 


It  is  altogetlier  probiibl(%  however,  tliiit  our  wide-awake 
traveler  found  himself  before  long  in  the  bazaars,  for  the 
donkey  boys  have  a  secret  understanding  with  the  proprie- 
tors of  these  bazaars  that  they  shall  bring  every  unsuspect- 
ing traveler  witliin  their  web  as  soon  as  possible.  So  j)ictur- 
esque  is  the  sight  that  the  traveler  is  usually  quite  ready  to 
be  caught,  even  though  it  means  that  he  will  be  despoiled  of 
a  few  francs,  and  have  very  little  to  show  for  them. 

"We  jiassed  through  one  street  which  seemed  to  be  very 
largely  given  up  to  the  fez  makers.  Here  is  the  universal  head 
covering  of  the  Turk  in  all  stages  of  manufacture.  New 
fezzes  are  being  shaped,  and  old  fezzes  are  being  re-ironed, 
just  as  silk  hats  are  put  into  good  condition  in  the  hat  sho|)s 
of  other  countries.  A  truncated  cone  of  brass  is  the  mould 
on  which  the  fez  is  built,  and  since  scarcely  any  other  kind 
of  head  gear  is  used  in  this  or  any  other  part  of  the  Moham- 
medan world,  it  will  be  seen  that  these  little  factories  trans- 
act a  very  large  business.     In  fact,  the  fez  is  the  sign  of 

national  subjection  to  the  Turk,  and  Christians  and  Jews  in 
Turkish  lands  were  originally  obliged  to  wear  it,  if  I  mistake 
not,  on  pain  of  being  treated  as  heretics  and  traitors.  In 
these  days  the  servitude  expressed  by  the  fez  is  largely  for- 
gotten, and  in  church  and  on  the  street,  in  the  mosque  and 
in  the  parlors,  in  the  railway  train  and  on  the  house-top, 
wherever  one  sees  a  subject  of  the  Sultan,  or  anyone  belong- 
ing to  a  tributary  nation,  he  will,  doubtless,  see  his  head 
covered  with  the  red,  conical  cap,  with  the  black  tassel  hang- 
ing down  behind. 

It  would  seem  that  there  could  not  be  much  difference  in 
fezzes,  that  there  was  very  little  scope  for  the  fashionable 
hatters  in  this  style  of  head  gear';  but  human  nature  is  very 
much  the  same  in  all  lands,  and  there  is  a  chance  for  Dame 
Fashion  to  exercise  her  powers,  and  for  Madame  Grundy  to 


A   CHANCE   FOR   MADAMK    (ilUNI)Y. 


397 


in 

Lble 
jery 
inie 
to 


make  her  rLMiuirks  even  upon  fozzos.  To  tlio  unpnicticed 
eye  they  all  look  alike,  hut  sonic  are  a  little  higher  than 
oiiiers,  as  we  shall  find  if  we  look  closely;  some  are  of  a 
darker  shade  of  red  ;  others  come  more  nearly  to  a  point  at 
t)»e  top;  and  just  as  one  funereal  silk  hat  ditl'ers  from  an- 


SUGAR-CANE   AND   FHIIIT   SKLLF.US   OF   (AlliO. 

Other  funereal  silk  hat  in  its  solemn  lines  of  ugliness,  so  one- 
fez  differs  from  another,  and  the  changing  fashion  makes  the 
fez-makers'  business  good. 

Beyond  this  fez  merchant  is  the  sugar-cane  bazaar,  where, 
leaning  up  against  the  sides  of  the  building,  we  see  stacks  of 
tall  canes  from  which  jointed  sections  are  cut  off  for  any 


r 


'.i'   ' 


398 


A   PEEP  AT   THE   KHEDIVE. 


t     . 


|,i 


passing  customer.  The  small  boy,  as  can  be  easily  imagined^ 
especially  enjoys  this  suceulont,  sugary  product,  and  he  may 
be  seen  at  almost  any  of  these  numberless  stalls  trying  to 
get  the  very  largest  ])ossible  ])ii>ce  of  sugar-cane  for  the 
smallest  ])ossiblo  ])iece  of  money. 

A  veiled  beauty  {wo  Avill  give  her  the  benefit  of  the 
doubt),  Avith  numerous  strings  of  huge  beads  around  her 
neck,  is  waiting  on  the  small  boy,  and  very  likely  in  the 
foreground  is  a  thick-li})ped,  Avoolly-pated  Nul)ian,  who  in 
his  rags  and  dirt  will  lie  out  in  the  sun  all  day  long,  with 
never  a  thought  that  it  is  uncomfortably  warm. 

As  we  were  looking  in  at  one  of  these  shops,  we  sa^v  an 
unusual  comnu)tion  taking  ])lace  in  the  street .  bey ond  us. 
People  were  hurrying  to  slioj)  doors,  and  scurrying  from  the 
side  streets  to  the  corner  of  the  lai'ger  thoroughfare,  as 
thou*>-h  some  unusual  si^-ht  Avas  about  to  be  exhibited.  AVe 
could  not  understand  the  meaning  of  the  commotion  until 
our  donkey  boy  pulled  us  excitedly  by  the  sleeve,  and,  point- 
ing to  the  street,  said  something  about  the  Khedive,  Avhich 
gave  us  to  understand  that  this  youthful  successor  of  tho 
Pharaohs  Avas  about  to  pass. 

Our  surmise  concerning  th>)  donkey  boy's  information 
Avas  correct,  and  very  soon  four  or  five  soldiers  dashed  by, 
followed  by  an  oi)en  carriage  draAvn  by  a  span  of  splendid 
liorses.  In  this  carriage  Avere  two  men  of  very  oi'diiuirv  ap- 
pearance, one  much  older  than  the  other.  Both  Avoi'e  I'ed 
fez/,es  of  the  ordinary  type,  but  otherwise  Avere  dressed  as 
European  gentlemen.  The  younger  of  these  two  was  the 
boyish  Khedive  of  Egyj)t,  the  ruler  whose  predecessoi's  live 
tiiousand  years  ago  built  the  ])yramids  and  dug  the  ancient 
canals,  and  erected  the  most  magnilicent  monuments  which 
the  Avorld  has  CA'er  seen,  monuments  Avhich  even  thiie  and 
vandalism  cannot  destroy. 


A  STROLL  THROUGH  THE  BAZAARS. 


399 


red 

as 

Lhe 

live 

>nt 
lich 
Ind 


Goini^  oil  I'l'oiii  this  bazaar,  IVoiii  whose  doorway  we  liave 
■watched  tlie  passiii<^  of  the  Khedive,  we  soon  enter  a  ]>ert'ect 
hibyrinth  of  ])assag'eways,  lined  on  every  hand  "with  little 
stalls  "when^  every  imaginable  article,  and  a  jL^ood  many 
things  "which  until  recently  have  been  unimaginable  to  us, 
are  sold:  brass  ware  and  silver  lilagree  work,  andjer  and 
sandal  wood,  iish  and  vegetables, 
fruit  and  statuettes,  donkey  bells 
and  evil-eye  beads  for  the  camels, 
cakes  and  sugar  for  the  boys,  fod- 
der for  the  donkeys,  saddles  for 
the  lun'ses,  veils  for  the  women, 
earrings  vHud  gewgaws  for  the 
Arabs  of  the  deseit,  and  every- 
thing which  Eastern  and  AV^estern 
ideas  have  rendered  necessary, 

]\[any  of  these  bazaars  opeii  out 
of  passageways  that  are  entirely 
covered  overhead,  and  ai-e  dai'k, 
gloomy  recesses  into  which  a  ray 
of  sunlight  never  struggles.  Still, 
dirty  and  dark,  vermin-infested 
and  beggar-haunted  as  they  are, 
they  are  extrcMiiely  interesting, 
and  in  their  ma/.es  any  one  who 
delights  in  the  study  of  human  nature  can  lose  hiniseil'  for 
days  at  a  time,  but  never  lose  liis  interest  in  the  strange 
sights  ai'ound  him. 

liefore  leaving  this  fascinating  city  there  ai-e  three  ex- 
cursi<ms  which  Ave  must  make, —  cme  to  Ihlio])olis  where 
Joseph  lived,  another  to  the  marvelous  museums  of  Bulak, 
the  most  nMuarkable  depository  of  antiipiities  in  all  the 
world,  and  the  thii'd  to  the  pyramids  of  (Jizeh. 


SHOE  ri;i)i)i,KH  ov  caiho. 


400 


TRADITIONS   OF   THE   PAST. 


We  can  visit  IIelio})olis  in  a  single  luilf  day.  A  jileasant 
road,  winding  oftentimes  between  gardens  of  oranges  and 
lemons,  and  shaded  nmcli  of  the  way  by  these  fragrant 
trees,  takes  us  to  this  famous  City  of  th<^  Sun.  On  the  way 
we  pass  the  village  of  Matariyeh.  Here  is  the  tree  and  well 
of  the  Virgin.  My  readers,  who  are  acquainted  with  their 
New  Testameni  history,  will  remember  that  the  mother  of 
our  Lord,  to  escape  the  cruel  persecutions  of  Ilerod,  fled  into 
Egypt  with  the  child  Jesus  and  her  husband  Joseph.  Tiie 
pathetic  picture  Avhich  is  so  common  in  Christian  art  of  the 
Flight  into  Egypt,  has  done  scarcely  less  than  the  Bible 
itself  to  impress  this  scene  uj)on  the  imagination  of  the 
world.  Those  who  have  once  seen  this  })icture,  or  any  of 
the  innumerable  copies  of  it,  will  never  forget  the  sweet 
face  of  the  Virgin  Mother,  as  she  rides  along  the  dusty  road, 
bearing  the  infant  Jesus  in  her  arms,  while  the  dignified  and 
manly  Joseph  walks  by  their  side. 

A  modern  traveler  has  said  that  if  Jose})!!  and  Mary 
were  modern  Bedouins,  Joseph  would  be  riding  the  ass, 
while  Mary  would  walk  and  carry  the  child.  But  we  are 
glad  to  believe  that  Joseph  and  Mary  had  very  little  in 
common  with  the  modern  Bedouin,  and  that  the  western 
ideas  of  respect  to  motherhood  and  womankind  prevailed  in 
that  journey  undertaken  so  long  ago  to  the  land  of  Egypt. 
In  this  little  village  to  which  we  have  come,  tradition  says 
the  virgin  and  child  once  rested,  and  the  tree  under  which 
she  rested — a  large,  spreading  sycamore,  with  decayed 
trunk  and  gnarled  limbs  —  is  still  pointed  out.  Of  course, 
even  the  most  credulous  know  that  this  i)articular  tree  must 
have  been  planted  many  centuries  after  tiiat  famous  journey 
was  undertaken ;  but  it  is  very  cei'tain  that  a  nu)st  ancient 
tradition  connects  the  Holy  Family  with  this  very  spot,  and 
though  it  is  known  that  this  tree  was  not  ])lanted  until  1(172, 


AN   INTERESTING   TREE   AND   ITS   STORY. 


401 


and  that  its  predecessor  died  in  1005,  it  is  not  by  any  mejins 
impossible  that  near  this  spot  came  the  Blessed  Mother  and 
the  Holy  Child,  with  their  stalwart  protector,  from  the  land 
of  Judea. 


A   BEDOUIN    FAMILY   ON   A   JOI'UNKY. 


?2, 


The  water  for  the  garden  in  which  the  tree  is  ])lanted 
comes  from  a  shallow  pool  near  by,  and,  as  we  visited  tlie 
spot,  a  blindfolded  ox  was  pacing  his  weary  round,  raising 
the  water  by  a  series  of  endless  buckets,  which  poured 
their  contents  into  the  ditches  that  irrigated  the  garden. 
Unhke  most  of  the  water  in  this  vicinity,  which  is  brackish, 


I  'II 


Ml 


402 


A   SPIDERS   VEIL  AND   WHAT   IT   CONCEALED. 


the  water  from  this  reservoir  is  sweet  and  good  for  drinking; 
and  before  we  left  the  garden  Ave  took  a  draught  from  tlie 
same  pool  at  which  the  Virgin  and  her  husband  may  have 
quenched  their  thirst  eighteen  hundred  years  ago. 

Tradition  has  been  bus}'-  with  this  place,  as  with  every 
other  that  is  connected  Avith  the  Holy  Family,  and  one 
pretty  legend  tells  us  that  Avhen  ])ersecution  was  rife,  the 
mother  concealed  herself  with  the  child  in  the  hollow  trunk 
of  the  tree  which  stood  on  this  spot,  and  that  a  spider  Avove 
its  AA^eb  so  closely  across  the  opening  that  no  lynx-eyed  per- 
secutor could  see  the  mother  and  the  child  beneath  the 
spider's  veil. 

Half  a  mile  beyond  this  garden  Ave  see  all  that  is  left  of 
the  famous  Heliopolis,  or  the  City  of  the  Sun.  This  is  the 
place  Avhich  the  Bible  calls  On,  and  here  Ave  are  told  that 
Pharaoh  gave  Joseph  the  daughter  of  a  priest  of  Heliopolis 
in  marriage.  In  early  days  the  Temple  of  me  Sun  at  Helio- 
polis Avas  the  most  famous  sacred  })lace  in  all  Egypt,  and  Avas 
the  scene  of  the  most  notable  ceremonies  connected  with  the 
Avorship  of  the  sun.  No  less  than  12,013  priests  and  officials 
Avere  connected  Avith  this  temple,  it  is  said.  As  one  thinks 
of  the  former  magnificence  of  this  spot  and  contrasts  it  Avitli 
its  present  decay,  he  realizes  Iioav  absolutely  Time  destrovs 
the  mightiest  Avorks  of  man. 

Few  places  have  been  so  utterly  Aviped  out  of  existence. 
All  that  is  left  now  of  this  famous  temple  is  a  single 
obelisk,  and  even  that  is  not  impressive,  for  it  is  half 
buried  in  the  accumulated  mud  and  soil  of  the  centuries, 
which  have  been  deposited  around  it.  On  tAVo  sides  the  bees 
have  built  their  cells  in  the  dee]>cut  hieroglyphics,  so  as  to 
fill  them  up  completely  and  obliterate  the  characters,  and 
the  only  signs  of  life  about  this  temple,  Avhich  once  swarmed 
Avith  thousands  of  priests  and  myriads  of  Avorshipers,  are  tAvo 


THE   RAVAGES   OF  TIME. 


403 


half 
|i'ios, 

)ees 
IS  to 

and 
Imecl 

two 


or  three  blind,  lame,  halt,  and  loathsome  beggars,  who  limp 
after  one  at  every  step,  and  hold  out  hlthy  hands,  distorted 
and  twisted  by  disease,  for  backsheesh. 

Companion  obelisks  to  the  one  which  stands  here  have 
been  taken  by  successive  con(i[uerors  of  Egy})t  to  grace  their 
capitals,  and  this  alone  is  left  to  tell  the  tale  of  the  glory  of 
Heliopolis.  On  this  obelisk,  doubtless,  Joseph  looked; 
beneath  the  shadows  of  this  monument  and  its  tall  com- 
panions he  led  the  Mother  and  Child.  To  the  temple,  Avhich 
stood  on  this  spot  in  its  more  than  royal  magniticence,  came 
the  Pharaohs,  one  after  another.  Every  Pharaoh  considered 
himself  the  human  embodiment  of  the  sun,  and  it  is  only 
natural  that  he  should  have  brought  offerings  worthy  of  a 
Pharaoh  to  this  magnificent  temple,  to  increase  with  every 
reign  of  every  dynasty  its  growing  magnificence. 

There  is  to-day  in  the  IS'ational  Museum  at  London  a 
papyrus  which  gives  a  marvelous  list  of  presents  donated  to 
this  temple  by  Rameses  III  alone.  But  now,  for  more  than 
two  thousand  years,  Heliopolis  has  been  but  a  name.  Even 
the  famous  university  Avliich  once  flourished  here,  though  es- 
tablished long  after  the  temple  had  ceased  to  exist,  and  only  a 
hundred  years  before  tlie  time  of  Christ,  is  utterly  obliterated. 
Nations  have  come  and  gone,  kingdoms  have  waxed  and 
waned,  steadily  the  star  of  empire  has  moved  westward,  but 
this  one  lonely  monolith  remains,  half  imbedded  in  mud, 
not  even  respected  by  the  bees  themselves,  resorted  to  by 
only  a  few  tourists,  on  whom  beggars  fatten  —  this  only 
remains  of  the  magnificent  City  of  the  Sun. 

Cm*  next  excursion  shall  be  to  the  Bulak  Museum.  As  a 
rule,  the  traveler  finds  a  museum  a  tiresome  weariness  to  the 
flesh,  unless  he  is  engaged  in  some  particular  branch  of 
research  and  desires  to  make  use  of  the  treasures  wliich  the 
museum  contains,  in  his  particular  investigations  ;  he  is  apt 


404 


A    WONDEKKl'L   MUSEUM. 


!    I 


to  wandisr  thn)U<^li  tho  (!iull(!ss  corridoi's  in  u  stupid  and  por- 
functory  way,  casting  a  glance  to  the  ri<^lit  and  the  left,  lor 
the  sake  of  i)orfoniiin<^  liis  duty,  antl  Ix^inn-  ;il)lc  to  say  that 
he  has  "(h)iie"  tht;  iiuis(unM.  Kv(^  and  brain,  as  well  as  feet 
become  tired,  the  confined  atnios])here  at  last  becomes  unen- 
durable, and  one  vows  that  he  will  see  no  more  curiosities 
"  while  tlie  world  standeth,"  if  they  are  to  be  b(ju<,dit  at  the 
expense  of  such  utter  weariness  and  ennui.     Then,  as  one 


IN    TIIK    lU'l.AK    MIHKl'M. 


cmerf^i^s  into  the  ojien  air,  he  has  a  dim  remem])rance  of  a 
tomb  hei'c!  and  a  scarabeus  there,  of  a  collection  of  arrow 
heads  over  yonder,  of  a  case  of  butterHies  on  the  north  wall, 
and  another  of  ancient  coins  on  the  south  wall.  JJut  where 
the  butterflies  first  flew,  or  Avhere  the  coins  ]mssed  current, 
or  who  occu])ied  tiie  tombs,  or  at  whom  the  arrow  heads 
were  pointed  —  of  these  details  he  is  apt  to  liave  a  very 
mixed  and  hazy  idea. 

J^ut  the  museum  at  liulidv  is  not  an  ordinary  museum  by 
any  means.     The  most  wearied  and  travel-hardened  tourist 


ANCIENT  TREASURES,  ANTiyUITIEH,  AND   MUMMIES.     405 


t, 

S 

>y 

St 


finds  here  enough  treasures  to  keep  his  mind  alert,  and  to 
dri\e  the  weai'iness  from  his  brain  ami  his  leet. 

We  did  not  linger,  however,  for  numy  mimites  over  the 
bronze  cats  and  jackals,  the  ibises  in  co|)[)er,  or  the  shrine  of 
Osiris.  We  did  not  take  any  great  joy  in  the  sight  of  the 
green  porcelain  deity  in  the  shafje  of  a  distorted  ciiild  stand- 
ing upon  two  crocodiles  and  sti-angling  two  snakes,  neither 
did  we  go  into  raptures  over  the  dog-faced  ape,  the  emi)lem 
of  the  god  Thoth,  or  even  over  tiie  golden  diadems  and 
chains  and  alabaster  vases,  and  granite  hawks  with  human 
heads,  for  we  were  anxious  to  s])en(l  all  the  time  at  our  dis- 
posal in  the  apartment  of  the  royal  mummies. 

Until  within  the  memory  of  many  of  my  youngest  read- 
ers, the  existence  of  these  mummies  Avas  not  suspected  by 
the  civilized  world.  The  Arabs,  to  be  sure,  knew  of  them, 
but  as  the  royal  tombs  furnished  them  with  a  perfect  mine 
of  curios,  seals,  coins,  statuettes,  and  rolls  of  ])apyrus,  they 
carefully  concealed  their  knowledge  fi'om  investigating  trav. 
elers.  At  last  the  anti(juities  were  found,  and  trciastu'c^s 
sucii  as  the  world  had  not  believed  to  exist,  were  unearthed. 
As  we  enter  the  museum  we  see  several  mummies  and  colHns 
l)elonging  to  ])riests  and  kings  and  princes  of  the  twenty-lirst 
dynasty,  liut  this  was  an  inglorious  dynasty,  so  history 
tells  us.  The  })riest-ldngs  were  unable  to  enforce  their 
claims,  antl  they  are  ])articularly  interesting  to  us  only  on 
account  of  their  connecticm  with  Solomon ;  for  it  was  with 
this  dynasty  that  Solomon  nuide  allinity,  and  took  Plia- 
raoh's  daughter  and  brought  her  into  the  city  of  David. 
It  was  a  Pharaoh  of  this  dynasty,  too,  that  took  (iezer 
and  burned  it  with  fire,  and  slew  tlu?  C^anaanites  tliat 
dwelt  in  the  city,  and  gave  it  for  a  present  to  his  daughter, 
Solomon's  wife,  as  we  are  told  in  the  ninth  chajjtiM'  of 
I   Kings.     In  the   time  of  these   Pharaohs,   Solomon   had 


406 


A  ROOM   FULL  OF  ROYAL  MUMMIES. 


pi  ; 


ll': 


lit 


;i:' 


horses  and  linen  yarn  brought  out  of  Egypt.  We  are  told 
that  an  Eg'yi)tian  chariot  in  those  days  cost  65U  shekels  of 
silver,  and  a  liorse  150  shekels. 

As  we  pass  on  further  into  tliis  most  interesting  funereal 
apartment,  we  find  priests  and  kings  of  older  dynasties. 
Here  is  the  coffin  of  Thothmes  III.  Tliese  were  more  glori- 
ous Pharaohs  than  tlieir  successors.  They  flourished  more 
than  3,500  years  ago,  extended  tlieir  conquests  as  far  as  the 
Tigris,  exacted  heavy  triljutes  from  the  nations  whom  they 
van(piished,  and  embellished  Thebes,  their  capital,  with  mag- 
nificent edifices. 

But  most  interesting  of  all  in  this  marvelous  room  are 
the  coffins  and  the  mummies  of  Sethi  I  and  his  son  Eameses 
II,  for  these  are  the  ''  Pharaohs  of  the  Oppression,"  whose 
cruel  story  is  told  to  us  so  graphically  in  the  Book  of  Exodus. 

Sethi,  it  is  known,  caused  his  son  Barneses  to  be  educated 
with  the  other  young  Egyptian  nobles,  and  it  is  altogether 
probable  that  one  of  these  Egyptian  nobles  was  Moses,  the 
great  Lawgiver  of  Israel.  How  Pharaoh's  daughter  found 
him  as  she  went  to  bathe  in  the  Nile  ;  how,  by  the  sister's 
gentle  ruse,  the  child's  mother  Avas  called  to  be  the  nurse, 
we  all  remember.  Who  has  not  felt  glad  Avhen  the  princess 
said  to  the  anxious  mother  :  "  Take  this  child  and  nurse  it  for 
me,  and  I  will  give  thee  thy  wages."  Never  was  such  a 
congenial  task  given  to  a  nurse  before !  "  And  the  woman 
took  the  child  and  nursed  it,  and  the  child  grew,  and  she 
brought  him  unto  Pharaoh's  daughter,  and  he  became  her 
son,  and  she  called  his  name  Moses,  and  she  said  :  Because  I 
drew  him  out  of  the  water."  Now,  after  reading  this  brief 
Biblical  story,  let  us  turn  to  our  museum  again.  Look  into 
that  glass  case.  There,  in  that  royal  gilded  coffin,  lies  a 
shrunken,  withered  mummy.  The  lower  limbs  are  yet 
wrapped  in  the  cerements  of  the  grave,  but  the  skull  is  ex- 


. 


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a  1)  c  " 


7.      ^ 

grT' 


MUMMY  OP  MOSES  S   PLAYFELLOW. 


409 


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iif*V 


posetl  uiul  still  ])ci'foct.  Tho  loJig,  hooked,  lloinan  nose,  tlio 
deep-sunken  eyeballs,  the  lieavv,  scjuare  jaw,  tell  of  the  war- 
rior and  the  tyrant.     There  is  Moses's  playfellow. 

For  more  than  three  thousand  years 
he  lav  silent  in  the  earth,  until  at  last  the 
spade  of  the  antitpiarian  broke  int(j  his 
dark  resting  place,  his  cotHn  was  opened, 
and  he  was  found  to  tell  us  with  his  (inn, 
determined  lips,  the  story  of  the  awful 
oppression  and  tyranny  which  he  inaugu- 
rated so  many  centuries  ago. 

'  "  Ilameses  ir,  the  "  Pharaoh  of  the  Op- 
pression," died  about  3,3t>U  years  ago.  His 
body  was  embalmed,  placed  on  board  the 
royal  barge,  and  Hoated  up  the  Nile  to 
the  Theban  City  of  the  Dead,  where  it 
was  laid  to  rest  in  the  great  sarcophagus 
which  had  been  cut  from  the  limestone 
of  Biban-el-]V[ulouk.  The  location  of  the 
tomb  was  well  known  then,  because  it  had 
been  the  habit  of  the  monarch  to  visit 
it  frequently  during  its  excavation,  but  ''^^ 
for  centuries  the  exact  spot  remained  a 
mighty  secret. 

''  According  to  custom,  after  the  burial 
the  doorway  to  the  tomb  was  walled  up 
and  so  disguised  bv  rocks  and  sand  as  ^^^^  i.knotii  view 

.        .  "  OF     MIMMY  OK    KING 

to  make  it  impossible  for  any  l)ut  the  pnAKAou.uAMESEsii. 
priests  to  discover  its  whereabouts.  It  (The  Phamoh  of  the  op- 
was  not  until   188 1  that  the  real  hiding  i"*^^^^'"") 

place  was  discovered.  For  a  number  of  years  the  officials  of 
the  Bulak  Museum  had  seen  funeral  offerinffs,  and  other 
antiquities,  brought  from  Thebes  by  returning  tourists.  Avhich 

■  Edward  L.  WiliJon  in  Tho  Century. 


ViHrJ 


% 


410 


FINDING  THE  MUMMY   OF   PHARAOH. 


I 


they  knew  belonged  to  the  dynasty  of  Rameses  II,  of  his 
father  Sethi  I,  and  of  liis  grandfather  llameses  I,  The 
clear-headed  officials  argued  that  the  mummies  of  those 
royal  personages  must  have  been  discovered  by  some  one. 
The  Director-General  of  the  Museum  at  once  organized  a 
detective  force  to  helj)  him  discover  the  hiding-place. 

''  Arrest  after  arrest  was  made  among  the  natives,  and 
the  bastinado  was  applied  to  many  a  calloused  sole  which 
had  never  felt  either  shoe  or  sandal.  Early  in  1881  circum- 
stantial evidence  pointed  to  an  Arab  named  Ahmed  Abd-er- 
Kasoul  as  the  one  who  knew  more  than  he  would  tell.  He 
was  Arrested  and  confined  in  prison  for  many  months,  mean- 
time suffering  the  bastinado  repeatedly.  Finally  his  brother 
made  a  clean  breast  of  the  whole  affair,  and  was  induced  to 
conduct  the  Curator  of  the  Museum  to  the  liiding-place  so 
long  looked  for. 

"  Up  the  slope  of  a  western  mountain  a  huge  isolated 
rock  was  found.  Behind  this  a  spot  was  reached  Avhere  the 
stones  appeared  to  have  been  arranged  'by  hand'  rather 
than  scattered  by  some  upheaval  of  nature.  Arabs  were 
employed  to  remove  the  loose  stones  from  the  well  into 
which  they  had  been  throAvn.  "When  the  bottom  of  the 
shaft  was  reached  a  subterranean  passage  was  found  which 
ran  westward  about  twentv-four  feet,  and  then  turned 
directly  northward,  continuing  into  the  heart  of  the  moun- 
tain for  about  two  hundred  feet.  This  passage  terminated 
in  a  mortuary  chamber  about  thirteen  b}'  twenty-three  feet 
in  extent,  and  six  feet  in  height. 

"There  was  found  the  mummy  of  Rameses  II,  the 
Pharaoh  of  tlie  Oppression,  and  his  identity  was  subse- 
cjuently  established  beyond  question.  In  the  same  chamber 
were  found  nearly  forty  other  mummies  of  kings,  queens, 
princes,  and  priests. 


_ 


HOW   PHARAOH   LOOKED. 


411 


ited 
feet 

the 

Ibse- 

iber 

iens, 


"The  followin*,^  June  the  mtmiiiiy  of  Uiiineses  II  was 
releiised  from  its  baiKhiges.  Alter  the  uiifohling  of  tlie 
niinnmy  the  merciless  cjimera  was  turned  u])on  it,  and  in 
that  sort  of  picture,  which  is  notorious  for  never  thittering 
nor  ever  detracting, 
we  have  a  ])roof  of 
the  very  oi'iginal 
himself,  enabling  all 
to  'see  how  Pha- 
raoh looked.'  No 
doubt  exists  about 
the  genuineness  of 
the  mummy,  for,  in 
black  ink,  written 
ii])on  the  mummy 
case  by  the  high 
priest  and  King  Pin- 
otem,  is  the  record 
testifying  to  the 
identity  of  the  royal 
contents.  The  cov- 
erings were  all  re- 
moved by  the  care- 
ful hands  of  one  of    wheue  the  mummy  ok  imiakaoh  was  found. 

,  ,,  .  ^,  ENTUANCE  TO  THE    TOMI!. 

tlie  professors  of  the 

Bulak  Museum,  in  the  presence  of  the  Khedive  and  other 

distinguished  persons." 

The  head  is  long,  and  small  in  proportion  to  the  body. 
The  top  of  the  skull  is  quite  bare.  On  the  temj)les  there  are  a 
few  sparse  hairs,  but  at  the  poll  the  hair  is  quite  thick.  White 
at  the  time  of  death,  they  have  been  dyed  a  light  yellow  l)y 
the  spices  used  in  embalming.  The  forehead  is  low  and  nar- 
row ;  the  eyebrows  are  thick  and  white ;  the  eyes  are  small 


412 


DESCRIPTION   OF   THE   MUMMY   OF   I'lIARAOH. 


I;      :.! 


i-Ai. 


and  close  tor^-otlier;  the  nose  is  lon<2;,  iircihcd,  iind  thin,  and 
sli^'litly  cruslied  at  tlie  tip  l)y  tlie  ])i'essui'o  of  the  handagvs. 
The  temi)Irs  are  sunken;  the  cheek-bones  very  proniiiient; 
the  ears  round,  and  ])ierced  like  thos(>  of  a  woman  foi'  the 


PROFILE  OP   KINO    PnATlAOII,    RAMESE8  11. 
(Tlie  rharaoh  of  the  OpprcBgioii.) 

wearing  of  ear-rings.  The  jaw-l^one  is  massive  and  strong ; 
the  mouth  small,  and  when  first  exposed  Avas  full  of  some 
kind  of  black  paste.  This  paste  being  partly  removed  dis- 
closed much  worn  teeth',  which,  however,  are  white  and 
well  preserved.  The  mustache  and  beard  are  white  and 
thin.    They  seem  to  have  been  kept  shaven  during  life,  but 


LOOKING   INTO   PIIARAOIl's   FACE. 


413 


lome 
(Hs- 
and 
and 
but 


were  probably  allowed  to  o^vow  dnriiig-  the  king's  last  illness, 
or  they  may  have  grown  after  death.  The  skin  is  of  earthy 
brown,  spotted  with  l)lack.  Finally,  it  may  be  said,  the  face 
of  tlie  mummy  gives  a  fail'  idea  of  the  face  of  the  living 
king.      Tiie   expression    is    nnintellectual,    ])(M'hai)s   slightly 


FRONT   VIKW   OK   niAKAOn   TMMKnTATKT-Y    AFTEn   rNWIM)IN(!    THK    MUMMY. 

(From  a  spucial  photograph.) 

animal ;  but  even  under  the  somewhat  grotesque  disguise  of 
mummilication,  there  is  phunly  to  be  seen  an  air  of  sovereign 
majesty,  of  resolve,  and  of  pride.  The  rest  of  the  body  is  as 
well  preserved  as  the  head  ;  but,  in  consequence  of  the  i-educ- 
tion  of  the  tissues,  its  external  aspect  is  less  lifelike.  The 
neck  is  no  thicker  than  the  vertebral  column.  The  chest  is 
broad  ;  the  shoulders  are  square;  the  arms  are  crossed  upon 


414 


A  WICKED  RECORD. 


% 


■   !• 


i: 


the  breast ;  the  hands  are  small  and  dyed  Avith  henna.  The 
legs  and  thighs  are  fleshless;  the  feet  are  long,  slender, 
somewhat  flat-soled,  and  dyed,  like  the  hands,  M'ith  henna. 
The  corpse  is  that  of  an  old  man,  but  of  a  vigorous  and 
robust  old  man.  We  know,  indeed,  that  Rameses  II  reigned 
for  sixt^'^-seven  years,  and  that  he  must  have  been  nearly  one 
hundred  years  old  when  he  died. 

He  had  his  good  points,  to  be  sure,  had  Rameses  the 
Great.  He  exhibited  great  zeal  as  a  builder,  as  a  patron  of 
art  and  of  sciences,  and  erected  monuments  of  victory  in 
various  parts  of  Egypt.  But  his  monuments  have  all  crum- 
bled, his  buildings  are  leveled  with  the  ground,  the  arts  and 
sciences  which  he  encouraged  are  outgrown,  and  have  been 
succeeded  by  nobler  arts  and  sciences.  But  the  one  thing 
that  he  will  be  known  for  in  all  the  future  history  of  the 
world,  is  that  which  is  recorded  of  him  in  the  first  Book  of 
Exodus.  Surely,  it  is  true,  in  this  case,  that  "  the  evil  that 
men  do  lives  after  them,  while  the  good  is  oft  interred  with 
their  bones." 

"  And  the  children  of  Israel  Avere  *niitful,  and  increased 
abundantly,  and  multiplied,  and  Avaxed  exceeding  mighty ; 
and  the  land  Avas  filled  Avith  them. 

"  XoAV  there  arose  up  a  ncAv  king  over  Egypt,  Avhich 
knew  not  Joseph. 

"  And  he  said  unto  his  people.  Behold,  the  people  of  the 
children  of  Israel  are  more  and  mightier  than  Ave  ; 

"  Come  on,  let  us  deal  Avisely  Avith  them,  lest  they  multi- 
ply, and  it  come  to  pass,  that,  Avhen  there  falleth  out  any 
Avar,  they  join  also  unto  our  enemies,  and  fight  against  us, 
and  so  get  them  up  out  of  the  land. 

"  Therefore,  they  did  set  oA^er  them  task-masters  to  afflict 
them  Avith  their  burdens.  And  they  built  for  Pharaoh 
treasure  cities,  Pithora  and  Raamses. 


HOW   ARE  THE   MIGHTY  FALLEN. 


415 


"  But  the  more  they  afflicted  them,  the  more  they  multi- 
plied and  grew.  And  they  grieved  because  of  the  children 
of  Israel. 

"  And  the  Egyptians  made  the  children  of  Israel  to  serve 
with  rigour ; 

"  And  they  made  their  lives  bitter  with  hard  bondage,  in 
mortar,  and  in  brick,  and  in  all  manner  of  service  in  the 
field ;  all  their  service,  wherein  they  made  them  serve,  was 
with  rigour. 


the 

Lilti- 

|any 

us, 

lict 
koli 


"  And  Pharaoh  charged  all  his  people,  saying,  Every  son 
that  is  born  ye  shall  cast  into  the  river,  and  every  daughter 
ye  shall  save  alive." 

A  sad  record,  surely,  is  this  for  any  man  to  leave  after 
him,  and  yet  we  can  believe  it  of  this  old  Pharaoh,  as  we 
see  him  grim  and  determined  even  in  death,  lying  in  his 
coffin,  which  is  exposed  to  the  curious  gaze  of  every  sight- 
seer. None  so  poor  now  as  to  do  reverence  to  this  ancient 
ruler  of  the  world.  He,  at  whose  beck  kings  rallied  to  his 
standards,  or  concluded  peace  at  his  command,  lies  there,  a 
mere  spectacle  for  every  curiosity  monger.  The  poorest 
vagabond  of  the  realm  can  now  criticise  his  hooked  nose  and 
his  retreating  forehead,  and  his  long  and  scrawny  neck  with 
impunity.  The  one  on  whom  kings  dared  not  look  without 
trembling,  is  now  known  only  as  a  persecutor  and  oppressor, 
who  is  hated  and  despised  by  Jews  and  Christians  alike, 
though  he  has  lain  in  his  coffin  for  more  than  three  thou- 
sand years.  The  old  rule  is  forgotten,  and  no  good  and 
only  evil  is  spoken  of  this  man  who  has  been  so  long  dead. 

Near  by  is  the  coffin  and  the  mummy  of  his  father,  Sethi 
I,  who  also  shows  in  the  very  contour  of  his  head  that  he 
was  a  Pharaoh  born  to  rule.  And  here  is  the  scriptural 
account  of  the  end  of  this  man  whose  mummy  we  see  before 


F 


41G 


WHERE  IS  THE  PHARAOH  OF  THE  EXODUS  ? 


US.  "  And  it  came  to  pass  in  the  process  of  time,  that  the 
king  of  Egypt  died,  and  the  children  of  Israel  sighed  by  rea- 
son of  the  bondage,  and  they  cried,  and  their  cry  came  up 
unto  God,  and  God  heard  their  groaning,  and  God  remem- 
bered his  covenant  with  Abraham,  with  Isaac,  and  with 
Jacob,  and  God  looked  upon  tlie  children  of  Israel,  and  God 
had  respect  unto  them." 

"We  know  the  tragic  history  that  followed,  the  groanings, 
the  oi)pression,  the  plague,  the  deliverance,  the  passage  of 
the  Red  Sea,  the  overwhelming  of  Pharaoh  and  his  chariots 
in  the  waves.  The  Pharaoh  of  the  oppression  lies  before  us 
in  the  museum  of  Bulak ;  but  the  Pharaoh  of  the  Exodus» 
whom  the  Bible  declares  found  a  watery  grave  under  the 
Eed  Sea's  waves,  has  never  been  found  among  the  royal 
mummies  of  Egypt. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

ON  THE  BANKS  OF  THE  NILE  — OL'R  CLDIB  TO  THE  TOP 
OF  THE  GREAT  PYRAMIDS  — BESET  BY  ARABS  — AMUS- 
ING ADVENTURES  AND  EXPERIENCES. 

An  Ancient  Proverb  —  Our  First  View  of  tlic  Pyramids  —  Man-made 
jMountains  —  Monuments  Wiiicli  Never  Disappoint  tlie  Traveler  — 
Could  Tlie^'  be  Built  To-daj' ?  —  A  Blow  at  the  Conceit  of  the  Nine- 
teenth Century  —  Comfort  for  the  Optimist  —  Why  the  Pyramids  were 
Built  and  How  —  The  Tombs  of  the  Pharaohs  —  A  Small  Pyramid  for  a 
Short  Reign  —  A  ]\Iore  Intimate  Acquaintance  —  The  Road  to  Cheops 
—  "  Matish  Backsheesh  "  — Unnecessary  Attention  —  The  Comanches  of 
the  Desert  —  An  Appeal  lo  the  Sheik  —  Getting  Up-stairs  —  How  the 
Stout  Lady  Reached  the  Top  —  Desolation,  Dearth,  and  Death  — Life- 
giving  Father  Nile  —  Beautiful  Cairo  —  An  Ancient  Story  of  the  Pyra- 
mitls  —  Avaricious  Arabs  —  Destroying  the  Pyramids — Looking  Down 
on  Forty  Centuries — A   Ride  on   a  Camel  to  the  Sphinx. 


iVERYTIIlNG  fears  time,  btit  time 
feurs  tlie  pyramids,"  is  an  old 
Arabian  proverb  that  has  been 
curi'ent  in  the  Land  of  the  Pyra- 
mids for  more  than  seven  hundred 
years.  Our  fh'st  glim]).se  of  these 
time-feared  monuments  was  from 
the  raihva}^  train  as  we  a]i- 
proached  Cairo.  "We  knew  that 
somewhere  off  in  the  distance, 
out  of  the  sandy  desert,  tirose 
these  marvelous  monuments  of  a 
])ast  age,  and  for  some  time  before  the  domes  and  minarets 
of  Cairo  a])peared  in  sight,  we  strained  our  eyes  to  get  the 
iirst  glimpse  of  them. 

At  length  a  bend  in  tlie  road  brought  them  into  view, 

(417) 


418 


ONE  OF  THE  WONDERS  OF  THE  WORLD. 


somewhat  dwarfed  bv  distance,  to  be  sure,  but  unmistakablv 
the  pyramids  of  picture-book  and  fancy,  of  boyhood's 
dream  and  manhood's  anticipation.  They  are  so  unique  and 
unapproached  by  any  other  species  of  architecture,  so  easily 
represented,  and  so  readily  compassed  by  the  imagination 
that  one  thinks  he  is  seeing  old,  familiar  friends,  as  they  first 
loom  up  on  the  horizon.  The  pyramids  of  the  old  geogra- 
phies and  of  more  modern  photographs  are  here  before  us, 
in  solid,  substantial  stone.  They  look  as  we  thought  they 
looked.  They  do  not  surprise  us  by  their  vastness  on  the 
one  hand,  nor  disappoint  us  by  their  insignificance  as  com- 
pared with  previous  anticipations,  on  the  other. 

For  almost  every  other  famous  sight  one  is  somewhat 
unprepared,  however  familiar  he  may  be  with  pictures  and 
descriptions  and  measurements.  The  Taj  Mahal  of  India, 
for  instance,  goes  beyond  the  greatest  expectations.  Xo 
photograph  can  tell  the  traveler  of  its  graceful  lines,  its 
aspiring  minarets,  its  dazzling  white  marble,  or  its  incrusta- 
tions of  precious  stones.  The  temples  of  Southern  India  ai'e 
only  feebly  portrayed  by  photographs.  Of  the  Colosseum, 
one  can  get  but  a  sectional  and  partial  view,  and  one  has  to 
stand  within  its  vast  sweep  of  stones  to  appreciate  its  magni- 
tude. Saint  Peter's  disappoints  most  travelers  by  its  seem- 
ing want  of  size,  as  compared  with  his  great  expectations. 
But  for  the  pyramids  one  is  Avell  prepared.  Not  that  they 
do  not  grow  on  the  imagination.  Almost  every  stupendous 
work  of  architecture  does  thus  improve  upon  acquaintance. 
The  mind  must  have  some  time  to  adjust  itself  to  its  propor- 
tions, and  the  longer  one  gazes  upon  the  pyramids,  and  the 
nearer  he  approaches  their  towering  bulk,  the  more  im- 
])ressetl  is  he  with  these  Avonders  of  the  ancient  and  modern 
world,  the  more  he  marvels  how  they  could  possibly  be 
built  in  rude  ages  when  labor-saving  machinery  was  compar- 


TIME-DEFYING   MONUMENTS. 


419 


atively  unknown,  the  more  he  begins  to  suspect  that,  after 
all,  these  ages  which  could  have  built  the  pyramids  were  not 
so  rude  as  his  modern  conceit  is  prone  to  sup])ose. 

It  is  douljtful  if  they  could  be  Ijuilt  to-day  with  all  the 
appliances  that  modern  invention  has  rendered  familiar, 
Avith  the  aid  of  steam  and  electricity,  and  every  contrivance 
which  the  ingenuity  of  four  thousand  years  has  been  able  to 
supply.     It  is  douljtful  if  those  vast  blocks  of  stone  could  be 


THE   GREAT  PYRAMIDS. 

quarried  or  transported,  or  raised  to  their  present  position, 
or  laid  so  accurately,  by  any  master  mason  of  to-day. 

When  we  think  that  tlie  building  of  the  pyramids  was 
only  an  index  to  the  civilization  of  the  centuries  that  saw 
them  erected,  our  inflated  notions  concerning  the  importance 
of  the  nineteenth  century  in  the  roll  of  the  ages  grows 
somewhat  smaller.  The  pyramids  are  like  isolated  peaks  in 
some  vast  sea,  which  still  remain  above  the  surface  to  tell  of 
the  mighty  continents  which  have  Ijeen  submerged.  Every- 
thing perishable  has  been  s\ve\)t  away,  cities  and  farms, 
canals  and  roadwavs,  the    accumulations  of    centuries  of 


420 


WHY  WERE  THE  PYRAMIDS  BUILT  ? 


wealth,  tlie  arts  and  sciences  of  the  ages  hjng  gone  by,  are 
all  buried  under  the  sand  of  the  desert.  The  pyramids 
alone  remain  to  tell  us  what  the  world  then  was,  and  to 
dwarf  the  ]iigmy  products  and  enterprises  of  the  present 
day.  Surely  there  is  a  law  of  degeneration,  as  well  as  a  law 
of  evolution  at  work  in  the  world.  In  some  respects  the 
world  is  going  backward  instead  of  forward. 

In  some  particulars,  Ave  cannot  equal  our  great-great- 
great  ancestors  Avho  flourished  in  Moses'  time,  but  the  op- 
timist may  well  believe, — and  there  is  nothing  to  dispel  the 
pleasant  thought, —  that  if  in  material  grandeur  we  cannot 
compete  with  the  ages  of  the  past,  in  moral  and  spiritual 
matters  this  old  world  never  attained  such  an  eminence  as 
since  the  time  Avhen  the  light  from  the  face  of  Christ  shone 
upon  her.  If  we  build  no  pyramids  in  these  days,  Ave  do 
build  hospitals  and  colleges  and  orj^han  asylums  on  a  vast 
scale.  If  there  are  no  magnificent  palaces  of  the  Pharaohs, 
there  are  innumerable  temples  consecrated  to  the  relief  of 
suffering  and  the  uplifting  of  humanity.  If  we  can  erect  no 
Cheops  in  these  days,  it  is  at  least  true  that  Ave  do  not  sacri- 
fice the  lives  of  a  hundred  thousand  peasants  every  year  in 
the  erection  of  a  senseless  funereal  monument,  built  to 
gratify  individual  vanity;  for  it  is  very  certain  that  the  pyr- 
amids of  Gizeh,  and  all  the  other  pyramids  that  have  made 
the  land  of  Egypt  famous,  are  simply  funereal  monuments, 
huge  tombs  for  the  kings ;  and,  though  some  fanciful  Avi'iters 
liaA^e  professed  to  find  in  them  the  embodiment  of  all  the 
sciences,  the  standards  of  Aveights  and  measures,  and  even  a 
})rophecy  of  the  birth  of  Christ,  these  theories  have  very 
little  Aveight  among  scholars  of  the  present  day,  and  it  is 
generally  believed  that  these  huge  monuments  Avere  sim])ly 
receptacles  for  the  mummies  of  the  Pharaohs  Avho  built 
them. 


MISERY   VENDERS   AND   VILE   IMPOSTORS. 


421 


ri- 


e 

s, 

rs 

le 

a 

rv 


IS 

ilt 


Each  succeedin*^  Pliaraoli  be;|^an  work  on  his  own  tomb 
as  soon  as  he  ascended  the  throne.  At  first  the  monument 
Avliicli  lie  built  over  his  sarcoplmgus  Avas  com])aratively 
small,  and  if  he  died  after  a  short  reign,  it  remained  a  small 
and  insignificant  pyramid.  This  accounts  for  the  smaller 
pyramids  which  dot  tlie  desert.  If,  however,  liis  reign  was 
longer,  he  added  one  course  of  stone  to  another,  building 
always  from  the  outside,  and  in  such  a  way  that  the  pyr- 
amid Avould  be  complete  in  itself  Avhenever  he  might  die, 
after  the  course  of  stone  which  had  been  begun  was  finished. 
Every  succeeding  incrustation  of  stones  was,  of  course,  a 
larger  and  more  stupendous  undertaking  than  the  last,  and 
it  was  only  the  Pharaohs  who  lived  to  the  greatest  age  who 
could  construct  such  monuments  as  Cheops  and  Cephron. 

But  we  have  lingered  quite  too  long  already  in  the  dis- 
tance. It  can  be  imagined  that  an  excursion  to  the  pyra- 
mids was  one  of  the  very  first  pleasures  that  we  enjoyed  in 
Cairo.  "VVe  could  not  see  those  giants  looming  up  in  the 
distance  Avithout  desiring  more  intimate  acquaintance,  and 
so,  taking  a  carriage  at  our  hotel,  a  drive  of  an  hour  and 
a  half  brought  us  to  their  very  base.  "\Ve  had  heard  har- 
roAving  tales  of  the  inn)ortunate  beggar,  and  so  Ave  had 
practiced,  before  leaving  the  hotel,  and  on  the  route,  the  im- 
l^ortant  ])lirase,  "  Mafish  backsheesh,"  Avhich  Avas  all  Ave  knew^ 
and  all  Ave  needed  to  know  of  Arabic.  At  the  same  time  we 
steeled  our  hearts  against  all  kinds  of  miseries  and  persistent 
pleadings,  comforting  ourselves  in  our  hardheartedness  Avitli 
the  fact  that  all  our  friends  and  all  our  guide  books  told  us 
that  these  misery-venders  Avere  mostly  imposters,  and  that  it 
Avas  the  most  mistaken  kind  of  charitv  to  heed  their  im- 
portunate  cries ;  that  some  of  them  Avere  very  Avell-to-do  in 
the  Avorld,  and  were  better  able  to  give  backsheesh  to  their 
victims  than  Avas  the  aA'erage  traveler  to  give  it  to  them. 


422 


NEARING  THE  PYRAMIDS. 


The  road  from  Cairo  to  Cheops  is,  for  this  desert  land,  a 
very  pleasant  road,  being  broad  and  well  made,  and  lined 
with  trees  on  either  side.  The  pyramids  occupy  a  low 
plateau  about  fifteen  hundred  yards  square ;  and  a  con- 
siderable ascent  leads  from  the  level  road  to  the  foot  of  the 
great  pyramid. 


BY  THE  ROADSIDE   IN  EGYPT. 


.t3i^«#r{:Sf^ 


Long  before  we  reach  this  spot,  hoAvever,  our  troubles 
with  the  Bedouins  begin.  For  rods  they  run  along  beside 
the  carriage,  some  on  two  legs,  some  on  one,  and  some  on 
three  or  four ;  for  crutches  and  canes  are  part  of  the  stock  in 
trade  of  these  beggars,  with  all  kinds  of  deformities  and 
diseases  —  the  more  disgusting  and  loathsome,  the  larger  is 


o 


BESET  BY  BEGGARS. 


4:>3 


[s 


their  capital.  In  some  i)laces  they  even  strew  unnec(^ssary 
sand  and  gravel  before  the  horses  for  the  alleged  |)ur})ose  of 
making  it  more  easy  for  them  to  ascend  the  hill,  but  for  the 
real  purpose  of  having  a  ])retext  for  imiking  some  exorbitant 
demand  on  the  traveler.  However,  we  are  able  to  resist 
these  importunities,  and  it  is  only  when  the  carriage  actually 
stops,  and  we  are  obliged  to  dismount,  that  matters  become 
serious.  Here  we  are  surrounded  a])]>ai'ently  by  all  the 
Bedouins  of  the  desert,  congregated  together  for  the  purpose 
of  boosting  our  precious  selves  u])  the  pyramid.  They  sur- 
round us  like  a  tribe  of  hostile  Conuinches  on  the  war-})ath. 
They  gesticulate  and  scream,  seize  us  by  the  arm,  and 
apparently  intend  to  capture  us  by  nuiin  force,  while  they 
try  to  frighten  off  all  other  clainuints  for  the  booty. 

At  length,  however,  our  manhood  asserts  itself,  and  our 
womanhood  too,  for  that  matter  —  for  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  there  is  a  feminine  pilgrim  in  this  party  —  and 
summoning  all  our  Arabic,  in  the  most  impressive  tones  we 
can  summon,  and  with  gestures  that  are  meant  to  be  as 
emphatic  as  their  own,  we  cry  out,  "  Iscut  walla  mafish 
backsheesh ! "  (Be  quiet  or  you  shall  have  no  fee.)  AVhat  we 
lack  in  accuracy  of  pronunciation,  Ave  make  up  in  vigor  of 
expression.  At  any  rate  the  Arabs  seem  to  understand  us, 
and,  falling  back  a  step  or  two,  there  is  a  temporary  lull  in 
the  babel.  "We  then  appeal  to  the  old  Sheik,  who  stands  in 
the  thick  of  the  crowd,  a  venerable,  white-bearded  old  man, 
trying  to  bring  some  little  order  out  of  the  chaos,  and  he 
assigns  to  each  of  us  two  swarthy,  half-naked  Bedouins,  to 
take  us  by  either  arm,  Avhile  he  tells  us  that  we  can  have 
another,  without  extra  charge,  to  push  behind  if  we  desire. 

The  huge  blocks  of  stone  Avhich  form  the  outer  coating 
of  Cheops  are  usually  more  than  three  feet  in  height,  while 
some  of  them  reach  nearly  to  the  chin  of  a  full  grown  man. 


ij-r 


424 


A   HARD   EARNED   VICTORY. 


I 


It  will  be  seen  that  it  is  with  no  mincing  stop  that  one  can 
mount  these  enormous  stones.  But  sonu'how  or  other  one 
course  after  another  is  surmounted,  a  little  hollow  will  afford 
a  place  for  the  toe,  the  muscular  Bedouin  will  climb  like  a 
cat,  and,  reaching  down,  will  lift  one  to  his  height,  while  his 
companion  below  pushes  one  upward.  Then,  following 
along  this  course  for  a  few  yards,  we  find  a  place  where  it  is 
possible  to  mount  to  the  next  course  of  stones,  and  then  to 
the  next,  and  so  on  until  we  stand  on  tlie  very  summit. 

The  day  that  we  ascended  was  honoi'ed  by  the  ascent  of 
an  enormously  stout  lady,  Avho,  tliough  she  started  some 
time  before  we  did,  was  soon  overtaken.  In  spite  of  her 
"too,  too  solid  flesh,"  her  spirit  was  l)rave  and  resolute,  and 
she  had  determined  to  conquer  the  pyramid  and  stand  on  its 
apex.  Most  tourists  would  have  been  discouraged  from  the 
attempt  by  so  much  superfluous  avoirdupois,  but  not  so  with 
our  fair  and  fat  excursionist.  Her  courage  was  evidently 
quite  as  large  as  her  bod}',  and  though  she  pulfed  and 
panted,  and  caused  all  her  numerous  retainers  to  puff  and 
pant  in  sympathy,  yet  she  persevered.  Lighter  and  more 
agile  tourists  started  long  after  she  began  the  ascent,  caught 
up  with  her  and  passed  her  almost  at  a  gallop,  but  she  still 
puffed  and  panted  on.  As  many  Bedouins  pulled  in  front  as 
could  get  hold  of  a  finger  or  an  arm  —  as  many  more  pushed 
behind,  and  at  last  mind  triumphed  over  matter,  and  our 
Amazon  stood  upon  the  peak,  and  was  able  to  wave  her 
handkerchief  in  triumph  to  her  timid  friends  below  who  had 
not  dared  to  make  the  ascent. 

It  must  not  be  thought,  however,  that  even  the  most 
agile  tourist  bounds  like  a  young  gazelle  from  one  course  of 
stones  to  another,  without  stopping  until  he  stands  upon  the 
top.  Though  our  guides  are  in  a  hurry  to  get  up  and  get 
down  again,  we  are  in  no  haste,  and  we  insist  upon  sitting 


VIEW   FROM   THE   TOP   OP  THE   PYRAMIDS. 


425 


down  to  rest  wherever  we  choose,  for  the  view  is  growing 
more  and  more  superh  the  higher  we  ascend. 

The  veUow  sand  of  the  desert  lies  beneath  us  like  a  vast, 
silent,  petrilied  sea,  lapping  the  very  feet  of  the  pyramids. 
On  the  plateau  near  by  are  two  other  iiuge  ]>yramitls,  while 
one  or  two  little  ones  —  the  children  of  the  family  —  lie  at 
our  feet.  Near  by,  too,  is  the  incomprehensible  S))hinx,  the 
wontler  and  uivstei'y  of  the  ages,  calm  and  resolute  and 
silent,  yet  smiling  still,  though  sadly  battered  and  nuitilated 
by  the  vandal  hands  of  icoiKJclasts. 

In  every  directicm  except  one,  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach, 
is  a  scene  of  absolute  desolation  and  death.  Interminable 
reaches  ©f  yellow  sand,  no  oasis,  no  green  ribbon  of  a  grass- 
like stream,  no  solitary  palm  tree  waving  its  fronds  in  the 
air  —  the  most  mournful  country  up(m  which  the  sun  of 
heaven  shines.  In  the  far  distance,  to  the  south,  rise  the 
pyramids  of  Abusir  and  Saccara,  Avhere  were  made  some 
Avonderful  "finds"  of  hidden  treasures.  But  these  monu- 
ments of  dead  kings  only  seem  to  emphasize  the  desolation 
of  the  landscape.  The  only  object  which  breaks  its  mo- 
notony are  these  majestic  tombs  —  the  monuments  of  a 
civilization  which  has  been  dead  for  three  thousand  years. 

But  in  another  direction  the  scene  changes.  Beautiful 
Cairo,  mellowed  and  glorified  by  the  haze  of  distance,  rises 
in  the  east  with  its  countless  minarets  and  beautifully 
rounded  domes,  and  all  about  the  city,  which  is  laved  by  the 
life-giving  Nile,  is  the  deep-hued  vegetation  which  makes  a 
city  possible  here  in  the  midst  of  the  desert.  Wherever  the 
river  goes,  or  a  branch  of  the  river,  or  a  canal  from  that 
branch,  or  an  irrigating  ditch  from  the  canal,  thither  is 
spread  in  fan-like  lines  the  refreshing  green  that  forms  such 
a  blessed  picture  of  life  and  health  as  contrasted  with  the 
deadly  sands  upon  which  this  little  fan  of  green  is  laid. 


T 


426 


A  STRANGE  AND  CURIOUS  SIGHT, 


AVhen  Ave  draw  nearer  to  Father  Nile  we  shall  see  many 
strange  and  curious  sights.  Possibly  we  shall  get  a  glimpse 
of  a  crocodile,  and  we  may  be  so  fortunate  as  to  come  upon 
one  of  these  ugly  saurians  who  has  devoured  his  last  infant 
Egyptian,  and  who,  bound,  stunned,  and  helpless,  is  at  the 
mercy  of  his  captors.  Ilis  hide  will  serve  a  more  useful 
purpose  than  ever  before  when  it  is  turned  into  a  scaly  gri])- 
sack  for  the  use  and  behoof  of  some  American  drummer. 


A   SCENE   ON   THE   NILE. 


Of  course  such  scenes  are  more  common  on  the  upper  Nile 
than  they  are  near  Cairo. 

While  we  are  sitting  here  on  the  pyramid-top,  looking  at 
the  view  from  one  of  the  upper  courses  of  stone,  it  Avill  be  a 
good  time  for  us  to  learn  something  of  the  construction  of 
the  great  monument  we  are  ascending,  and  something  of 
its  ancient  history. 

I  Avas  much  interested  in  the  account  tliat  Herodotus 
gives  of  the  building  of  Cheops,  for  no  one  can  be  more 
accurate  or  reliable  than  the  great  historian  in  regard  to 
objects  Avhich  he  himself  saw.  Here  is  his  account  of  it : 
"This  pyramid  was  lirst  built  in  the  form  of  a  flight  of  steps. 


T 


HOW  THE  PYRAMIDS  WERE  BUILT. 


427 


of 
of 


After  the  workmen  had  completed  the  pyramid  in  this  form, 
they  raised  the  other  stones  used  for  the  incrustation  by 
means  of  nuichines  made  of  short  beams,  from  the  ground  to 
the  first  tier  of  steps,  and,  after  the  stone  was  placed  there, 
it  was  raised  to  the  second  tier  by  another  machine,  for  there 
were  as  many  machines  as  there  w^ere  tiers  of  steps,  or  per- 
hap;s  the  same  machine,  if  it  Avere  easily  moved,  Avas  raised 
from  one  tier  to  the  other,  as  it  was  required  for  lifting  the 
stones.  The  liighest  part  of  the  pyramid  was  thus  finished 
first,  the  parts  adjoining  it  were  taken  next,  and  the  lowest 
part,  next  to  the  earth,  was  completed  last. 

"It  was  recorded  on  the  pyramid  in  Egyptian  w'riting 
[the  stones  which  recorded  these  facts,  I  may  say,  have  long 
been  removed,  and  there  is  now  no  writing  visible]  how 
many  radishes,  onions,  and  roots  of  garlic  had  been  dis- 
tributed among  the  workmen,  and  if  I  rightly  remember 
Avhat  the  interpreter  who  read  the  Avriting  told  me,"  says 
Herodotus,  "  the  money  they  cost  amounted  to  sixteen  hun- 
dred talents  of  silver  [more  than  $170,000].  If  this  was 
really  the  case,  how  much  more  must  have  been  spent  on  the 
iron  with  which  they  worked  than  the  food  and  clothing  of 
the  workmen." 

This  account  of  the  ancient  historian  of  the  manner  in 
which  the  pyramid  was  constructed  has  been  entirely  con- 
firmed by  modern  researches. 

It  can  verv  easily  be  believed  that  these  vast  structures, 

witli  their  hidden  recesses,  early  excited  the  cupidity  of  the 

successors  of  the  Pharaohs.     It  is  said  that  the  pyramids 

were  first  opened  and  examined  by  the  Persians  about  five 

hundred  years  before  Christ,   and  it  is  very   certain  that 

Arabs  made    many  attem})ts  to  get   within    the  treasure 

chamber.      These   vast   receptacles  of   the   bodies   of   the 

kings  of  ancient  Egypt  Avere  like  the   forbidden  room  in 
3« 


: 


428 


WHAT  WAS   DISCOVERED   IN  THE   PYRAMIDS. 


Bluebeard's  paluce,  or  the  box  or  closet  Avliich  the  anxious 
mother  tells  the  curious  child  must  not  be  investiiiated. 
The  very  fact  that  it  was  sealed  excited  the  cupidity  and 
curiosity  of  these  children  of  the  desert,  ami  tliey  Avere  for- 
ever trying  to  pry  open  the  doors,  and  get  at  the  fabulous 
treasures  which  they  believed  were  concealed  within.  The 
vastness  and  the  strength  of  the  pyramids  is  in  no  Avay 
better  indicated  than  by  the  fact  that  for  so  long  they 
resisted  the  prying  curiosity  of  these  Khalifs,  who  had  noth- 
ing better  to  do  than  to  pull  down  what  the  Pharaohs  had 
built  up. 

But  it  is  very  certain  that  they  discovered  within  the  re- 
cesses of  the  pyramids,  when,  after  hundreds  of  years,  they 
were  aljle  to  force  an  entrance,  very  little  to  pay  them  for 
their  time  and  trouble.  It  was  not  until  the  3'^ear  1820, 
fully  twelve  hundred  years  after  the  first  attempt  was  made 
that  Khalif  Mamun  got  within  the  great  pyramid,  and  it  is 
said  that  the  gold  found  within  was  exactly  enough  to  pay 
for  the  cost  of  breaking  and  entering.  Along  with  the 
treasure,  so  runs  the  Arabian  tradition,  was  found  a  marble 
slab  bearing  an  inscription  which  said  that  the  money  beside 
it  sufficed  to  pay  for  the  work  of  the  incjuisitive  king,  but 
that  if  he  attempted  to  go  further,  he  would  have  his  labor 
for  his  pains,  for  he  Avould  find  nothing  worth  taking. 

It  is  altogether  probable,  as  historians  have  suggested, 
that  if  this  gold  were  found,  it  had  been  ])reviously  ])lace(l 
there  by  the  calif  who  made  the  investigation,  in  order  that 
his  people  might  not  be  able  to  chide  him  with  having 
expended  so  much  money  for  nothing. 

Some  of  the  vandals  who  succeeded  Khalif  Mamun  were 
not  content  to  search  the  suj)[)ose(l  treasure  cluunber  further, 
but  set  out  delil)erately  to  destroy  with  malice  aforethought 
the  gigantic  mementoes  of  the  ])ast.     Sultan  Othman,  who 


SEEKING   TO   DESTROY   THE   PYRAMIDS. 


429 


d 


I'C 

it 

lO 


lived  at  the  close  of  the  twelfth  century,  and  Avliose  name 
ought  to  be  forever  execrated  l^y  all  lovers  of  the  niagnili- 
cent,  set  to  work  with  the  fell  purpose  of  destroying  the 
third  pyramid,  which  we  (!an  see  from  the  top  of  Gizeh  a 
little  t(^  the  west  of  us.  He  actually  organized  a  party  of 
workmen  to  undertake  this  destruction,  pitched  a  camp  at 
the  base  of  the  })yi'amid,  and  labored  incessantly  for  eight 
months;  but  the  pyramid  was  stronger  than  the  puny 
Othnum.  His  eight  months  of  labor,  and  the  enormous 
sums  which  he  spent  in  the  work  of  destruction  practically 
effected  nothing,  except  as  one  historian  says,  "the  shameful 
mutilation  of  the  pyramid  and  the  demonstration  of  the 
weakness  and  incapacity  of  the  explorers.  When  the  stones 
that  were  removed  are  regarded  at  the  present  day,  one 
would  think  that  the  structure  had  been  entirely  destroyed  ; 
but  when  one  then  looks  at  the  pyramid  itself,  one  sees  that 
it  has  suffered  no  material  damage,  and  that  a  part  of  its 
incrustation  has  been  stripped  off  on  one  side  only."  This 
fact,  concerning  the  impotence  of  this  iconoclast,  tells  vol- 
umes of  the  strength  and  solidity  and  might  of  the  pyra- 
mids. A  great  force  of  men,  working  incessantly  for  eight 
months,  could  only  scar  and  mutilate  its  face  on  one  side. 
The  Pharaohs  could  build  what  their  successors  could  not 
overthrow. 

Now  we  are  sufficiently  rested  to  pursue  our  journey  to 
the  top ;  following  the  zigzag  line,  planting  our  toes  in  the 
convenient  crevices,  jum])ing  and  springing  .as  best  we  can, 
allowing  our  guides  to  ])ull  and  push  us  wherever  it  may  be 
necessary,  wo  at  last  roach  the  summit,  and  the  view  which 
was  before  ])artial  and  incomplete  is  now  fidl-orbed  and 
most  magnificent.  Kowhere  is  there  such  a  contrast  of  life 
and  death;  nowhei'o  else  can  we  look  down  upon  such 
mighty  hierogly})hics  of  the  ages. 


t 


430 


VENDERS  OP  SPURIOUS   CURIOSITIES. 


i^ 


I  ■", 


I 


I  'H 


As  we  stand  below,  ''forty  centuries  look  down  upon  us," 
as  Napoleon  reminded  his  troops,  when  they  stood  under  the 
shadow  of  the  pyramids.  As  we  gaze  from  the  top,  we  look 
down  upon  forty  centuries.  Every  mighty  pyramid  is 
eloquent  Avith  the  tale  of  a  past  civilization,  forever  forgot- 
ten and  blotted  out.  Even  the  silent  Sphinx  seems  to  have 
a  tongue  to  tell  us  of  the  glories  of  the  past,  over  which  she 
looks  with  her  solemn,  unblinking  eyes.  Every  grain  of 
sand,  if  it  could  tell  its  tale,  would  have  a  story  more 
marvelous  than  the  fictions  of  Scheherezade. 

We  are  aroused  from  these  reveries  concerning  the  great- 
ness of  the  past  and  the  desolation  of  the  present,  by  the  in- 
evitable Bedouins  and  their  exasperating  cry  for  baksheesh. 
We  arise  in  our  wrath,  and  tell  the  miserable  horde  that  if 
they  say  anotlier  word  about  backsheesh  before  we  reach 
the  bottom  of  the  pyramid,  they  will  not  get  a  single  piaster 
beyond  the  strictly  legal  limits  of  their  pay.  Though  this 
speech  is  delivered  in  queen's  English,  unadorned  with  a 
single  word  of  Arabic,  they  seem  to  understand  its  purport, 
and  subside  to  some  extent. 

But  we  are  not  relieved  from  the  pestiferous  attention  of 
the  curiosity  vender  or  the  dealer  in  spurious  coins,  who 
haunts  the  pyramid.  lie  claims,  of  course,  that  his  coins 
were  found  in  the  vaults  of  this  very  pyramid,  though  we 
know  very  Avell  that  they  were  undoubtedly  made  in  Bir- 
mingham or  Sheffield.  But  Avhat  cares  he  for  truth  or 
poetry !  AVhat  cares  he  for  the  story  of  the  pyramid,  or  the 
tale  of  the  Sphinx !  All  these  things  are  old  fables  to  him, 
and  he  is  only  concerned  to  work  off  upon  us  his  spurious 
relics,  his  "antikkers"  as  he  calls  them,  in  his  Arabian 
English.  • 

One  of  our  guides  insists  that  his  name  is  Mark  Twain, 
"Abdul  Mark  Twain,"  he  solemnly  infoi-ms  us,  and  when 


A  WONDERFUL  FEAT. 


431 


lan 


im, 
lien 


we  accuse  him  of  prevarication,  and  tell  him  that  we  left 
Mark  Twain  at  the  foot  of  the  pyramid,  and  did  not  engage 
him  for  the  ascent,  he  unblushingly  informs  us  that  there  are 
three  Mark  Twains  among  the  guides,  but  that  he  is  Abdul 
Mark  Twain.  We  cannot  shake  his  faith  in  his  own  iden- 
tity, and  then  he  solemnly  informs  us  that  he  is  the  Mark 
Twain,  who,  when  the  humorist  visited  the  pyramid,  ran 
down  Cheops  and  u]) 
the  side  of  Cephron 
and  back  agam,  all 
within  ten  minutes. 
He  offers  to  do  the 
same  feat  for  us  for 
the  sum  of  four 
francs,  but  we  refuse 
his  blandishments. 

When  we  reached 
the  bottom,  we  set- 
tled the  bill  for  the 
ascent,  not  with  our 
importunate  guide, 
but  with  the  grey- 
bearded  Sheik  who 
awaited  us,  paying 
the  regular  fee  and  a 
reasonable  baksheesh  to  each  of  our  guides.  Of  course  this  is 
not  done  Avithout  })rotestations  and  the  bowlings  of  impotent 
wrath  that  they  cannot  extract  from  us  ten  times  what  is 
their  due.  But  we  are  oblivious  to  their  threats,  as- 
sume utter  ignorance  of  their  language,  which  is  not  difficult 
to  do,  escape  from  their  clutches,  and  make  our  way  to  the 
Sphmx. 

Of  course  we  must  go  thither  in  as  romantic  a  way  as 


THE   FLIGHT  DOWN   THE  PYKAMID. 


: 


433 


RIDING  A  CAMEL. 


possible,  and  so  Ave  mount  one  of  the  ragged  camels  "which 
are  waiting  to  convey  travelers  to  the  silent  stone  woman^ 
and  in  this  manner  make  the  short  journey. 

In  order  to  allow  tourists  to  mount,  the  camel  unlimbers 
himself,  doubles  in  his  fore  legs  and  shuts  them  up  like  a 
jackknife,  does  the  same  thing  with  his  hind  legs,  and  is 
then  sufficiently  low,  so  that  with  some  difficulty  we  can 
reach  the  saddle.  "When  we  are  safely  seated  astride  his 
hump,  he  begins  to  undouble  himself,  first  unjointing  his 
hind  legs,  then  getting  upon  his  knees,  and  finally  upon  his. 
great,  splay-footed,  spongy  feet.  Preserving  our  equilibrium 
as  well  as  possible,  and  holding  on  with  both  hands,  so  as  not 
to  be  thrown  over  his  head,  Ave  aAvait  his  next  movement. 
This  is  eA'en  more  trying  than  the  first,  for  as  he  stretches 
his  front  legs,  Ave  rock  back  and  forth,  as  though  Ave  Avere 
astride  a  miniature  earthquake,  but  at  last  he  is  on  his  feet 
again,  and  plods  off  solemnly  Avith  his  nose  high  in  the  air, 
toAvards  the  Sphinx  of  which  he  seems  a  fitting  counterpart. 

It  is  only  a  short  journey,  and  is  accomplished  in  a  fcAv 
minutes,  and  Ave  find  ourselves  face  to  face  Avith  this  silent 
Avonder  of  the  ages.  The  Sphinx  Avas  doubtless  far  more 
impressiA'e  before  she  had  her  nose  battered  off,  her  ear 
amputated,  and  her  eyes  blackened,  by  the  combined  spite  of 
iconoclasts  and  relic  hunters. 

An  old  Mohammedan  Sheik,  Avho  took  the  second  com- 
mandment too  literallv,  and  voAved  that  the  Avorld  should 
not  have  any  graven  images  if  he  could  help  it,  is  responsible 
for  much  of  this  mutilation.  The  Mamelukes  accomplished 
much  more  in  this  direction,  having  usetl  the  Sphinx  as  a 
target  for  their  cannon-balls,  and  relic  hunters  have  added 
their  puny  might  by  chipping  away  here  and  there  bits  of 
stone  to  adorn  their  Avretched  little  museums.  We  can 
scarcely  get  an  adequate  idea  of  this  magnificent  monument 


THE  INCOMPREHENSIBLE  SPHINX. 


433 


Id 
e 


ed 
of 
an 
mt 


of  the  ages  when  in  its  pristine  glory,  but  we  can  easily  be- 
lieve what  an  old  writer  tells  us  who  saw  the  statue  when  in 
perfect  preservation  ;  that  its  face  was  very  pleasing,  and 
was  of  a  graceful  and  beautiful  type.  "  One  might  almost 
sav,''  he  adds,  "  that  it  smiles  winninglv."  The  Arabs  have 
a  very  significant  name  for  the  S})hinXj  Avhich  may  be  trans- 
lated "The  AVatchful."  This  is  the  impression  that  she 
still  gives  to  every  beholder.  Tliere  is  still  a  wakeful  intel- 
ligence in  the  mutilated  face ;  there  is  still  a  calm  suggestion 


THE   SPHINX. 

of  limitless  vision  in  the  eyes.  There  is  still  a  calm  poise  in 
the  outstretched  lions'  feet  and  in  the  whole  attitude  of  the 
unfinished  body,  which  leads  one  to  say,  "This  is  the 
watcher  of  the  desert."  From  her  fathomless  eves  she  has 
looked  out  upon  eveiything  that  has  happened  for  four 
thousand  years,  and  she  will  still  Avatch  over  the  sands  of 
the  desert,  in  spite  of  iconoclast  and  relic  hunters,  down  to 
"the  last  syllable  of  recorded  time." 

A  few  feet  from  the  Sphinx  is  a  great  temple  composed 
of   granite   and    alabaster,  and  in    the  vicinity   are    other 


484 


ADIEU  TO   THE  EGYPTIAN  DESERT. 


wonders  as  well.  But  Ave  are  satisfied  with  our  day's  work. 
This  stupendous  pyramid  and  the  nuigniticent  Sphinx  satisfy 
all  our  aspirations  for  sightseeing.  We  can  absorb,  to-day, 
no  more  of  the  marvels  and  glories  of  the  ancient  world,  and 
we  will  return  to  our  hotel  in  Cairo,  and  later  to  our  home 
in  America,  to  think  over  and  to  dream  of  the  wonders  of 
the  Egyptian  desert. 


CIIAPTETl   XXIII. 

ALL  ABOARD  FOR  JERUSALEM. 

A  Stormy  Day  in  March  — A  Test  for  Brave  Hearts  and  Strong  Stom- 
aclis  — Throwing  Up  Jonah  — Going  Asliore  at  JalTa  — How  We  Got 
Down  the  Ship's  Side  —  Dumping  Passengers  in  the  Small  Boat  —  Up 
to  the  Ridge  Pole  and  Down  the  Side  of  tlie  Great  Tent  —  x\.  Terrible 
Accident  —  A  Highwayman's  Demand  —  "  Your  Money  or  Your  Life" 
—  A  Near  Approach  —  Unsjieakable  Filth  —  The  House  of  Simon  the 
Tanner  —  Simon's  Vat  —  View  from  tlie  Housetop  — Our  Rural  Friend 
from  New  Y'ork  State  —  "Them  Jimkirridges  " — Through  the  Holy 
Land  Behind  a  Steam  Engine  —  The  Sentimental  Man  —  The  Reward  of 
Indulging  a  Sentiment  —  Our  Dragoman  —  How  Abdallah  Caught  the 
Doctors  Napping — When  the  Sun  and  the  Moon  Stood  Still  —  The 
Dapper  Conductor  in  His  Red  Fez  —  The  Rose  of  Sharon. 


E  sailed  from  Alexandria  one 
stormy  day  in  March,  and,  after 
a  journey  of  some  four  and 
twenty  hours,  reached  ancient 
Jaffa,  the  chief  seaport  of  Jeru- 
salem. 

Joppa,  or  Jaffa  as  it  is  now 
called,  deserves  its  bad  reputa- 
tion as  the  worst  port  in  all  the 
world.  Brave  travelers  who 
will  not  blanch  at  any  other  ter- 
rors which  a  journey  around  the 
world  has  in  store  for  them,  confess  to  an  unworthy  fear  of 
this  landing  place,  and  strong  stomachs  which  never  rebel 
under  ordinary  circumstances,  however  boisterous  the  seas, 

turn  themselves  inside  out  when  they  go  ashore  at  this  port. 

(435) 


I 


I'H 


43G 


ON  SHIPBOARD   WITH  JONAH. 


\ 


"  Throwing  up  Jonah "  becomes  more  than  a  figurative 
plirase  in  the  roadstead  of  Jaffa,  for  it  will  be  remembered 
tliat  it  was  from  this  very  town  tluit  the  famous  navigator  of 
old  set  sail,  w^hen,  attempting  to  run  away  from  God's  com- 
mand, he  took  shii)  for  Tarshish. 

Modern  navigators  on  the  Syrian  coast  have  not  forgotten 
the  Bible  story,  for,  whenever  the  sea  is  unusually  rough, 
they  say  to  this  day,  that  Jonah  has  taken  ship  and  the 
waves  will  not  subside  until  he  is  landed. 

Evidently,  Jonah  was  on  board  when  we  sailed  up  to 
Jaffa's  gates,  for  the  waves  danced  and  leaped  about  our 
steamer  and  grew  every  moment  more  boisterous,  though 
the  rain  had  ceased  and  the  sun  was  shining  brightly  over- 
head. 

When  the  good  steamer  of  the  Egyptian  or  Khedival 
line  on  which  we  were  embarked  came  to  anchor,  the  health 
officer,  after  some  delay,  declared  that  we  might  land.  Then 
we  could  see  half  a  score  of  stout  boats,  each  armed  by  half 
a  dozen  rowers,  start  out  from  behind  the  line  of  rocks  Avhich 
flank  the  coast  and  form  a  poor  apology  for  a  breakwater. 

There  is  great  rivalry  between  the  boats,  for  all  the  i)as- 
sengers  are  regarded  as  legitimate  prey  by  the  representa- 
tives of  tourist  companies,  and  the  boat  that  first  comes  to 
the  steamer  is  first  served  with  its  quota  of  passengers. 

As  they  near  the  steamer,  the  boatmen  pull  with  re- 
doubled energy,  and  then  ensues  such  a  tumbling  and  scramb- 
ling and  rushing  and  snatching  of  baggage  as  defies  de- 
scription. 

Most  of  us,  however,  have  purchased  our  landing  tickets 
in  advance,  from  one  of  the  aforesaid  tourists'  companies,  at 
an  absurdly  high  price,  it  must  be  confessed.  The  boatmen 
of  one  of  these  rival  companies  wear  red  shirts,  the  other 
blue,  and  we  have  little  difficulty  in  picking  out  our  blue-coat 


A  PERILOUS  DESCENT. 


437 


oat 


or  our  red-coat,  as  the  case  may  be.  We  have  to  use  vio- 
lence, however,  to  get  our  small  packages  out  of  the  hands 
of  the  wrong  man  and  into  the  hands  of  the  right  man,  who 
finally  dumps  them  into  one  of  his  own  boats,  and  then  pro- 
ceeds to  dump  us  in  after  the  baggage.  It  is  an  exciting 
operation,  especially  for  women  and  fat  j)eople. 

The  little  boats  are  dancing  about  the  big  steamer  like 
pith  balls  on  an  electric  i)late.  Now  they  mount  on  the 
crest  of  a  wave  almost  to  the  bulwarks,  and  then  they  sink 
down,  down,  down,  far  below  the  usual  water  line. 

It  requires  no  little  dexterity  and  agility  to  get  over  the 
steamer's  side  and  into  the  little  boat  under  these  circum- 
stances. One  must  watch  his  chance,  and  when  the  landing 
boat  rises  on  the  wave  to  its  highest  ])oint,  he  must  rush 
down  the  gangway  and  throw  himself  into  the  arms  of  the 
boatman  Avho  is  waiting  to  receive  him  below. 

All  this  is  done  amid  shouts  of  sailors  and  shrieks  of 
frightened  tourists  and  dashing  of  waves  and  creaking  of 
windlasses  and  whistling  of  wind  in  the  rigging  until  it 
seems  that  Pandemonium  itself  is  let  loose. 

At  length,  however,  the  last  passenger  has  been  swung 
over  the  ship's  side,  and  the  last  trunk  has  been  dropped  into 
the  capacious  boats,  which,  with  the  greatest  difficulty,  are 
kept  from  grinding  themselves  into  kindling  wood  on  the 
iron  hull  of  the  steamer.  Our  boatmen  shove  off,  and  then 
begins  a  royal  struggle  with  the  waves. 

Up,  up,  up,  w' e  go,  to  the  very  ridgepole  of  a  great  billow 
which  slopes  away  on  either  side  like  a  vast  tent.  Then  we 
slide  down,  down,  down  the  billowy  side  of  our  watery  tent, 
until  we  reach  the  trough  of  the  wave,  only  to  mount  the 
side  of  the  next  wave  that  is  rushing  our  Avay,  as  though  it 
would  collapse  and  overwhelm  us  in  its  capacious  folds. 

Thus  we  mount  one  billow  after  another,  our  sturdy  boat- 


438 


A  DISTRESSING   ACCIDENT. 


man  always  |)uttin<r  the  prow  of  the  boat  into  the  wave,  and 
never  aUowiiig'  it  to  strike  us  broaclside,  until  at  last  wo 
round  the  edg-e  of  the  protecting  rocks  and  hear  that 
"  blessedest  of  sounds,"  the  keel  of  our  l)oat  grating-  on  the 
pebbles  of  Jaffa's  shore. 

AVith  all  its  seeming  frightfulness,  there  is  probably  little 
real  danger  in  this  landing,  and  comparatively  few  accidents 
occur  except  by  reason  of  gross  carelessness. 

A  few  weeks  before  we  reached  Jaffa,  however,  a  very 
distressing  accident  of  this  sort  had  occurred.  A  lai'ge  party 
of  travelers,  mostly  Russian  ])ilgrims,  had  embarked  on  one 
of  these  boats  for  the  shore.  The  day  was  stormy  and  the 
sea  tempestuous  ;  very  much  such  a  day,  we  imagine,  as  that 
on  which  we  landed.  The  passengers  had  all  agreed  with 
the  boatmen  to  be  taken  to  the  shore  for  half  a  napoleon 
(nearly  two  dollars),  a  sum  wdiicli,  for  the  distance  carried,  is 
exorbitant.  But  no  sooner  was  the  boat  in  the  middle  of  the 
boiling,  seething  waters,  half  way  between  the  ship  and  the 
shore,  when  the  avaricious  boatmen  demanded  double  farts 
and  threw  up  their  oars,  declaring  that  they  would  go  no 
farther  until  their  demands  were  met. 

This  was  no  better  than  highway  robbery,  and  naturally 
the  passengers  refused  to  accede  to  it.  In  the  dispute  that 
ensued,  a  tremendous  wave  struck  the  boat,  and,  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye,  overturned  it,  and  after  a  few  vain 
struggles  with  the  engulfing  waves,  it  sank  to  the  bottom. 
'Not  one  of  the  pilgrims  was  saved,  though  all  the  greedy, 
rascally  boatmen,  being  strong  swimmers,  succeeded  in  reach, 
ing  the  rocks. 

It  is  a  satisfaction  to  know"  that  all  these  murderers  were 
apprehended  and  lodged  in  jail,  Avhere  we  hope  they  will 
remain  for  many  a  year  before  they  are  released  to  risk  the 
lives  of  other  tourists  by  their  grasping  cupidity. 


JAFFA   AS   IT   IS. 


439 


Jaffa  is  ail  imposing  lookiri"^  city  fi-oni  tlie  sea.  Its  whito- 
waslied  stone  houses  swanu  up  the  side  of  a  steep  liill,  and 
spread  themselves  out  over  its  crest  until  one  fondly  believes 
that  he  is  ^azin<^  upon  a  city  of  palaces. 

J3ut  in  this  case,  as  in  so  many  others,  distance  lends  en- 
chantment to  the  view,  and  when  weactuallv  land  and  thread 
the  narrow,  tortuous  streets,  we  tind  that  it  is  about  the  filthi- 
est and  most  unkem])t  city  on  which  the  sun  shines. 

The  streets  are  full  of  swaying  camels  and  pushing  little 
donkeys  and  unwashed  ragged  Syrians  of  every  degree  of 
poverty  and  wretchedness. 

It  is  almost  inconceivable  how  some  of  the  narrow  streets 
can  remain  as  filthy  as  they  are.  One  would  think  that  even 
an  occasional  shower  would  wash  some  of  the  accumulated 
dirt  of  the  ages  off  them,  jind  that  a  rainv  season  Avould  sen- 
sibly  sweeten  these  filthy  thoroughfares. 

Apparently,  however,  nature  has  given  up  in  despair. 
The  dirt  of  the  days  of  Jonah  still  clings  to  one's  feet  in 
greasy  clods.  The  mud  and  filth  of  the  time  of  Dorcas  is 
com})aratively  modern.  We  have  always  supposed  that  Dor- 
cas was  a  model  housekeeper  as  well  as  a  good  lady  of 
most  charitable  purposes,  and  we  have  no  doubt  that  she 
kept  the  street  in  front  of  her  own  house  clean  and  sweet. 
But  what  is  one  M'oman  against  a  whole  city  full  of  dirty 
Arabs  ?  Very  likely  Dorcas  and  all  the  good  women  who 
have  lived  there  before  and  since  her  day  have  become  dis- 
couraged, and  have  allowed  Jaffa  to  go  on  at  the  slovenly, 
down-at-the-heel  gait,  which  is  now  so  characteristic  of  it. 

Though  we  cannot  find  any  very  authentic  memorials  of 
Dorcas,  the  traditional  house  of  Simon  the  Tanner  is  ])ointed 
out  to  us,  and  a  pretty  well  authenticated  tradition  it  is  as 
traditions  go  in  this  land. 

In  the  first-place,  we  are  conducted  into  a  dark,  thick- 


440 


THE   HOUSE  OF  SIMON  THE  TANNER. 


walled  apartment,  where  Ave  need  a  candle  even  to  see  the 
outlines  of  the  room,  and  are  told  that  this  was  the  very  spot 
Avhere  the  ancient  liouse  existed,  and  that  the  stones  we  see 
constituted  its  walls  eif>:hteen  hundred  years  ag-o. 

Just  outside  this  room  is  a  courtyard,  in  one  corner  of 
which  is  a  well  and  a  stone  trough,  which  tradition  says  is 
the  vat  in  which  St.  Peter's  friend  of  old  soaked  his  leather. 

In  the  well  hangs  an  old  oaken  bucket  from  which  we 
drank  a  full  draught  of  the  sparkling  Avater,  as  ])erhaps 
Simon  and  Peter  had  done  many  a  time  in  the  past. 

From  one  corner  of  this  courtyard  a  flight  of  stairs  leads 
to  the  housetop,  the  most  famous  part  of  this  establishment, 
for  here  it  is  said  St.  Peter  slept  Avhen  he  had  the  wondrous 
vision  which  was  fraught  Avith  such  momentous  meaning  to 
all  the  world. 

Here  he  saw  the  sheet  let  down  from  heaven  Avhicli  con- 
tained all  manner  of  four-footed  beasts  while  at  the  same 
time  came  the  command,  "  Rise,  Peter,  kill  and  eat." 

But  Peter  demurred,  saying,  "  Not  so.  Lord,  for  I  have 
never  eaten  anything  common  or  unclean." 

Then  came  the  significant  command  Avhicli  wrought  such 
a  wondrous  change  in  the  heart  of  the  narrow,  conventional 
Jew,  and  Avhich  made  him  the  broad-minded,  generous  apos- 
tle whom  all  a":es  delight  to  honor. 

"  What  God  hath  cleansed  that  call  not  thou  common." 

Was  ever  a  vision  accompanied  by  greater  results  'i 

Is  any  place  fraught  with  deeper  significance  than  that 
humble  housetop  from  which  was  proclaimed  to  Peter  and 
through  Peter  to  the  world  the  momentous  lesson  that  the 
Fatherhood  of  God  involves  the  Brotherhood  of  Man? 

The  view  from  this  housetop  makes  it  Avell  Avorthy  of  a 
visit  apart  from  its  historic  significance. 

Here  one  looks  out  upon  the  Avaves  of  the  same  ])ort  that 


''starving  all  around  the  world." 


441 


it 
id 

le 


a 


at 


has  been  historic  since  Ilirani,  Kino:  of  Tvre,  bv  this  route 
sent  cedar  Avood  and  all  manner  of  precious  gifts  to  Solomon. 

Between  these  same  encircling  rocks  the  little  vessel  on 
"which  Jonah  had  embarked  must  liavo  steered  her  course ; 
over  these  waves  half  the  famous  men  of  old  made  tlieir  way, 
as  they  came  and  went  thrf)ugh  this  ocean  gate  of  Syria. 

After  viewing  this  really  fine  view  from  Simon's  house- 
top, after  visiting  the  site  of  Napoleon's  hospital  prison, 
where,  if  historians  are  to  believed,  at  his  orders  a  horrible 
Ijutchery  of  sick  French  soldiers  occurred  ;  after  spending 
a  few  sentimental  moments  in  the  vicinity  of  Dorcas's 
reputed  abode,  Ave  did  not  care  to  stay  in  this  squalid  city. 

We  did  stay  long  enough,  however,  to  meet  a  typical 
character  from  Xew  York  state,  a  good  old  man,  who, 
though  he  had  been  around  the  Avorld,  and  tasted  the  food 
of  every  clime,  had  not  shaken  the  hayseed  out  of  his  hair  or 
got  used  to  his  best  "store  clothes,"  Avhicli  sat  upon  him 
awkwardly  and  loosely. 

A  s  we  looked  across  the  table,  at  Jaffa's  very  indifferent 
hotel,  where  a  bowl  of  thin  onion  soup  had  been  succeeded 
by  a  dish  of  garlic-scented  meat,  our  rural  friend  looked 
across  at  us  and  said,  with  a  pathetic  wail  in  his  voice,  "I 
have  been  starving  all  around  the  Avorld;  in  Japan,  China, 
and  India  we  have  been  half  starved  to  death,  for  we  are 
Americans,  you  see,  and  ain't  used  to  this  sort  of  thing." 
We  sympathized  Avith  him  with  all  our  hearts,  for,  although 
it  had  been  our  ha]i'py  lot  to  spend  most  of  our  time  among 
friends  where  Ave  felt  almost  as  much  at  home  as  at  our  own 
table,  Ave  realized  Avhat  it  must  have  been  to  this  wandering 
Jonathan  who  had  left  the  haylields  to  see  the  Avorld,  in  his 
old  age,  Avhen  he  Avas  too  far  advanced  in  years  to  ada])t 
himself  to  the  circumstances  Avith  Avhich  he  found  liimself 
surrounded,  and  to  eat  the  food  that  Avas  set  before  him. 


! 


442 


ALL  ABOARD  FOR  JERU  ALEM. 


lie  wont  on  to  tell  us  about  Ins  o::j)er^nces.  "I  did 
kind  o'  liko  it  in  Japun,"  lie  conlid(Ml  to  us.  "Tlicy  were 
.sort  o'  sniiU't,  and  up  and  comin',  and  .seemed  a  <^()od  deal 
like  the  Yankees  I  was  used  to  at  home,  and  I  did  like  them 
jimkii'ridges  that  they  ride  in,"  h"  went  on  to  say.  "  You 
mean  the  jinrikishaws,"  said  his  better  hall',  who  sat  by  his 
side.  "Yes,"  he  replied,  "jimkirrid^(»s  or  jini'ikishaws  or 
wliatever  they  call  'em,  it's  all  one  to  me." 

We  soon  hade  good-bye  to  the  rural  New  Yorkc^r  and 
t<jok  the  iirst  train  available  for  Jerusalem.  At  the  lirst 
blush  it  does  seem  sacrilegious  to  think  of  driving  through 
the  Holy  Land  behind  a  snorting  locomotive,  to  have  an  im- 
pertinent railway  ticket  thrust  into  your  hatband  by  a 
jaunty  (jonductor  in  a  Turkish  iez,  and  to  steam  across  the 
sacred  valleys  and  over  the  sacred  mountains,  even  though 
we  travel  at  the  alarming  speed  of  lii'teen  miles  an  hour. 

However,  when  the  (piestion  actually  comes  as  to 
wliether  one  will  take  two  days  to  make  the  journey  for  the 
sake  of  indulging  a  pious  sentiment,  or  will  make  it  in  three 
hours,  thus  gaining  more  time  in  the  Sacred  City,  the  prac- 
tical man  will  doubtless  (hscide  to  jjostpone  his  sentimental 
aspirations  for  a  short  time,  and  take  advantage  of  tlu;  new 
French  railroa<l  which  has  been  constructed  from  the  sea- 
shore almost  to  the  very  gate  of  the  City  of  King  J^avid. 

I  have  heanl  of  one  man  who  was  bound  not  to  yield  to 
the  blandishments  of  raj)id  transit,  but  to  nui'se  his  poetic 
sensibilities  in  solitude  as  lie  entered  the  Holy  (^'ity,  or  at 
least  with  the  companionship  of  his  faithful  steed  alone. 
He  would  transport  hims<'lf  back  to  the  twelfth  century  as 
far  as  possible;.  lie  would  enter  the;  city  like  the  ('rusachn* 
of  old,  I'iding  u|)oti  his  chosen  charger.  Thougii  he  might 
patronize  the  I'ailway  for  a  short  distance,  he;  would  abandon 
it  before  it  approache<l  the  sacrtid  gates. 


SENTIMENT    VEKSUS  COMFORT. 


443 


to 
litic 

at 
i)i\e. 
V  ;>s  ■ 


So  when  within  two  stations  of  Jci'usah'ni,  al)out  twelve 
En<^lish  miles  distant,  h(»  left  tlus  ti-ain  and  the  c;oin- 
])anions  with  whom  he  had  joui'iieyed,  and  hiced  a  horse, 
which  proved  to  he  a  sorry  na;^'  indeed,  for  the  rest  of 
the  journc^y.  I>nt  the  skies  were  unpropitioiis  —  they  evi- 
dently did  not  sympathize  with  his  sentiments,  for,  befoi'c;  he 
had  <^'one  a  mile,  black  clonds  covered  th(;  fa(;(!  of  the 
heavens,  the  snn  I'etircjd  from  view  and  th(!  rain  descended  in 
torr(>nts.  Thon<i:h  W(st  to  the  skin  there;  was  nothini"-  to  do 
hnt  to  i)lod  on  ov<!r  the  steej)  and  I'ocky  roads,  lie  couhl 
not  sj)nr  his  jaded  steed  to  any  greater  exei'tion,  and  in;  ;ir- 
rived,  wet  and  hedi-ag-f^hid,  with  all  the  sentinu^nt  soaked  ont 
of  his  system,  some  three  honrs  after  his  more;  nnpoetic 
companions,  wIkj  stnck  to  tlus  railway,  had  reached  Jeru- 
salem. 

On  th<j  day  that  we  took  this  famous  railway  ride  our 
fellow-passengers  consisted  of  some  half-do/.en  Amc^ricans,  as 
many  moie  Englishmen,  n  few  hilarious  Turks,  who  had 
heen  breaking  their  tempei'ance  pledg(!  by  indulging  in 
strong  waters,  and  one  or  two  fat  and  unctuous  )>riests. 

Hut  most  j>ictuiV'S(|ue  of  our  fellow-passengers  was  Ab- 
dallah,  the  dragoman,  who  Wiis  taking  some  of  >ui'  fellow- 
passimgei's  to  their  hotel.  Alert,  keen,  cjuick-witted,  he  was 
a  typical  Syrian  in  t!V(;ry  feature  and  characteristic. 
Arouiul  his  head  was  a  beautiful  j)urpl(!  silk  ka[)hileh,  while 
over  his  shoulders  was  a  loose  flowing  gai-ment  of  liiu'  ti'xt- 
ui'e,  shot  through  and  through  with  silver  threads,  tlu;  envy 
and  despair  of  most  of  the  ladies  in  the  car. 

A  eonnnon  saying  in  tlu^  Kast  is,  '' \  (ireek  will  gcit  the 
biittei-  of  tt^n  KurojM'ans,  a  -lew  will  beat  ten  (Jreeks,  an 
Armenian  will  e(jual  ten  ,I<jws,  and  a  Syrian  is  more  than  a 
match  for  a  (Ireek,  .lew,  and  Arnu'iiian  togtjther."  We 
(•ould  well  understand  this  saying  as  we  looked  at  this  keen, 


I 


444 


ABDAl.LAir.   orii    DRAOOMAX. 


V 


si'll'-rcliaiit,  I'cady  dvagomiiu,  wiio  liad  the  histoiy,  geogra- 
phy, and  ai'cha'ology  of  ]*al('stine  at  his  tongue's  end. 

At  least  h<'  had  cnonuli  of  it  to  answei'  his  j)ur})ose  and 
to  make  himscU'  (|uit('  indispetisablo  to  the  ])arty  who  i»hiced 

tlieniselves     under    his    <juid- 

1      -=-*<^t4?S^'-^S'''-  '^"^^^     '^VJiid.  lie  did  not  know 

--^^'  .;«ite<»I^V .  ^^      ,^,,^^j,^  ^,j^,  j.^,^,,  tln-ough  wliieh 

we  journeyed  was  evichMitly 
not  woi'th  knowing,  in  his 
oj)ini(jn,  and  he  managed  to 
impress  the  same  idea  ujx)!!  ail 
of  us  who  listened  to  him. 

Pointing  out  ol'  tlie  win- 
dow, as  th<'  ti'ain  drew  a  little 
l)ey()nil  tile  station  at  Jaira, 
he  said,  '*  There  is  the  ])lace 
wlio'e  Samson  tied  tlie  foxes' 
tails  together  and  let  them 
loos(?  in  the  standing  coi'u. 
And  there,  just  over  the  hill, 
is  the  land  of  the  riiilistines,'' 
he  informed  us,  with  the  ut- 
most eonfidenee  in  his  (»wn 
geogi'ajihical  accuracy,  what- 
ever doubt  e  X  j>  I  o  I'ers  a  nd 
scholars  might  fei'l  in  their 
own  conclusions. 

As  he  s])oke  he  im])arted 
his  conlidence  t()  all  the  party,  and  we  could  almost  see  a 
muscular  Goliath  showing  his  shaggy  head  above  the  hill-top. 
"  Over  yonder,"  he  went  on  to  say,  "  is  tlie  ])lace  where 
the  moon  stood  still  in  the  Valley  of  Aijalon,"  '"Ah,"  said 
■we  to  oui'selv(>s,  ''  now  we  have  g<jt  you,  ]\Ir.   Dragoman," 


I- St.  -•■' 

AHDAM.AII,    (UK    I)I{A(i()MAN. 


LILIKS   OF  THK   FIELD. 


445 


"S, 

\lt- 

iwn 
lat- 
nd 
iciv 

ie  II 

-top. 

lere 

said 

an," 


and  hall'  a  dozen  voices  si)ok(;  out  witii  the  yleijfui  assin'ancc 
of  hoys  who  hav(;  c'au<^ht  tlicii'  })rofossor  nai)|)iiig;  "()h, 
Ahdalhih,  you  have  niadi;  a  niistako  this  time,  it  was  the  sun 
that  stood  still,  and  not  the  moon,"  l>ut  Ahdallah  was  more 
than  a  match  for  tlu;  pi'ofessors  and  the  ministers  whosou<^ht 
to  correct  him,  for,  whii)})ing'  out  a  pocket  i>ible,  he  lui'iied 
at  once  to  the  passa<^e  and  I'cad  from  tlu;  twelfth  vers(i  of  the 
tenth  chapter  of  floshua  ;  "  Then  s|)ak('  . Joshua,  to  the  Lord 
in  the  day  when  the  Lord  d('li\('r('d  up  tlx;  Amorites  hefoi'c; 
the  children  of  Israel.  And  he  snid  in  tlii!  si<^'ht  of  Isi'ael, 
Sun,  stand  thou  still  u[»()ii  (iiheou,  and  thou,  Moon,  in  the 
Valley  of  Aijalon.  And  the  sun  stood  still,  and  the  moon 
stayed,  until  the  nation  had  aveii^^cd  themselves  of  their  ems 
mies."  Evidently,  Ahdallah  had  the  iJook  on  his  side  and 
there  was  notliine'  for  the  lieverend  Divines  U)  do  but  to 
subside'  and  to  look  more  dii^nilied  than  they  felt. 

For  the  lii'st  few  miles  out  of  .lei'usalem  the  railway  I'uns 
over  smiling,  cultivated  lields,  jij'reen  when  wt;  saw  them  with 
the  rich  vei'dure  of  s])rin«^time,  and  oay  with  the  rose  of 
Hharon,  for  this  is  none  othei"  than  the  celebi'ated  land  of 
Sharon  of  IJiblc!  times.  Another  bi'iliiant  llower  which  is 
found  in  th(>  utmost  profusion,  is  the  scarlet  anemone, 
called  in  ^Litthew,  "the  lily  of  the  Held,"  of  whicli  Christ 
said:  "  IJehold  the  lilies  of  the  Held,  how  they  e'l-ow,  foj* 
thev  toil  not,  neither  do  thev  s|)in,  and  v(;t  I  sav  unto  vou, 
that  Solomon  in  all  his  ylorv  was  not  arraved  like  one  of 
these." 

At  the  infrequent  stations  where  the  train  stopped,  mak- 
ing u])  for  their  infrecpience,  howevei",  by  a  long  stop  at  every 
station,  the  passengers  wf)uld  get  out  and  })luck  gi'eat  hand- 
fuls  of  these  beautiful  flowers.  Then  the  dapi)er  little  con- 
ductor with  his  red  fez,  and  the  inevitable  cigarette  in  his 
mouth,  would  wave  his  hand  and  off  would  start  the  train 


V  ,7  r    I 


I 


44G 


OVER   THE  MOUNTAINS   OF   PALESTINE. 


1 


across  other  historic  scenes  whose  very  thought  filled  our 
hearts  with  emotions  which  cannot  be  recortled,  as  we  remem- 
bered that  we  Avere  in  the  land  of  David  and  Solomon  and 
Samuel  and  Joshua,  and  that  we  were  approaching  the  city 
whose  rough  pavements  had  been  pressed  by  the  feet  of  our 
blessed  Lord  and  Saviour. 

A  few  miles  from  Jaffa  the  railway  begins  to  ascend  a 
steep  and  rugged  mountain  side,  and  for  the  rest  of  the 
journey  it  climbs  over  the  hills  and  rum])les  through  rocky 
chasms  that  would  not  discredit  the  heights  of  the  Rockies 
or  the  Sierra  Nevadas  themselves.  Even  where  railwavs  are 
common,  this  rock-ljuilt  roadway,  twisting  around  the  base 
of  perpendicular  crags,  and  toiling  by  slow  approaches  over 
the  flanks  of  inhospitable  mountains,  would  be  considered  no 
ordinary  feat  of  engineering ;  there  in  this  land  of  oppression 
and  hopelessness,  any  such  enterprise  is  truly  marvelous. 

AVhen  we  remember  that  thirty  years  ago  there  was  no 
wheeled  vehicle  of  any  kind  in  Palestine ;  when  we  remember 
not  only  the  engineering  difficulties,  but  the  governmental 
obstacles  which  were  thrown  in  the  way  of  this  railroad,  and 
the  innumerable  petty  hindrances  which  it  met,  our  only 
marvel  is,  that  its  projectors  persevered,  and  that  now  the 
modern  locomotive  and  railway  train  rumble  up  to  the  very 
walls  of  the  City  of  David. 

Not  only  France,  but  England,  Germany,  Sweden,  and 
Italy,  as  well  as  Syria  and  Turkey,  were  represented  in 
some  i)art  of  the  construction  or  equipment  of  this  road ; 
while  America  is  not  left  out,  for  engines  from  the  Baldwin 
Locomotivp  "Works  rumble  up  these  steep  grades,  and  shriek 
with  their  shrill  Avhistles  at  every  dangerous  crossing. 

Thus,  each  one  among  the  cosmopolitan  list  of  passengers 
who  daily  patronize  this  road,  may  feel  that  he  has  some 
especial  interest  in  its  welfare. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

"JERUSALEM,  JERUSALEM"- OUR  SOJOURN    IN  THE  I  IND 
OF  SACRED  STORY -INTERESTING  SCENES  AND  TOUCH 
ING  MEMORIES.  lULCll- 

Tlie   Rrakoman-s    Announcement -Incongruous    Modernism  -  Enterincr 

A   wi'"  ~^      !F"^  !^"'"''""'  -  '■  '^'"^  '^'^y  "f  the  Whole  Earth  -  - 
Ph  •".    H      'r  ^^""•^-^^^''^-  ^r-''-'-"  ^'ity-A  Pathetic  Storv- 

Plungm.  „,tu  the  Heart  of  the  City -The  Various  Shops- Silverware 
from  I^muiscus- Shy  lock  in  Jerusalen.- A  Suggestion  of  White-Caps 
-  i  lie  Camel  and  II,s  Sneering  Underlip  -  The  Dignified  Syrian  -  The 
Cn,,.ch_of  the  Holy  Sepulchre -A  Checkered  History -The  Stone 
of  I  nctiou- A  Touching  Rible  Story -Measuring  the  Stone  for  Tl  eir 
^^uuUns  Sheet-Our  Lord's  Tond,-The  Great  Unwashed-How 
Adam  Came  to  Life -The  Cleft  in  the  Rock -An  Impressive  Spec- 
tacle-A  Disgraceful  Easter  Scene  — An  Awful  Accident. 

ERUSALEM,  Jerusalem,"  cries  out 
the  rcailway  guard,  and  amid  the 
noise  and  bustle  that  always  sur- 
rounds a  station,  the  cracking  of 
whips  of  the  impatient  cab-drivers, 
the   snorting  of   the  locomotives 
that  run  back  a;nd  forth,  makinfr 
up  their  empty  train,  the  trundling 
of  trucks,  and  the  tumbling  about 
of  baggage,  we  have  our  first  intro- 
duction to  the  Holy  City. 

Could  anything  be  more  incon- 
gruous? is  our  first  thought,  and  we  are  inclined  to  wish 
that  we  had  followed  the  example  of  our  friend  of  whom  I 
wrote  in  the  last  cliaj^tor,  and  had  ridden  into  Jerusalem 
more  as  the  Master  of  old  rode  into  the  city,  even  though  it 


■■;; 


448 


A   FURROW   ON  THE  LANDSCAPE. 


might  be  under  lowering-  skies  luul  in  drencliiiig  rain.  How- 
ever, these  are  only  the  })assing  thoughts  of  the  anxious  trav- 
eler who  is  naturalh'  solicitous  i'or  his  trunk  and  his  valise, 
his  bandbox  and  his  bundle,  and  who  knows  not  what  sort  of 
lodging  may  await  him  at  his  journey's  end. 

After  all,  Jerusalem  caniu>t  be  dwai'fed  or  tliminislied  l)y 
any  such  scenes  of  modern  bustle  and  commotion.  There 
stands  tlie  city  pi'oudjy  on  its  hills  as  of  yore.  It  hi  s  with- 
stood the  decay  of  centuries,  tiie  tramp  of  conquering  ai'jnies, 
the  vandalism  of  the  Saracen,  and  the  destruction  that  comes 
in  the  wake  of  war  and  })estilence  and  conquest.  How  can 
it  be  alFected  then  by  this  puny  invention  of  the  nineteenth 
century  i  The  much  boasted  I'ailway  makes  but  a  scratch  on 
the  side  of  the  eternal  hills.  Viewed  fi'om  a  little  distance, 
it  seems  t(j  tui'u  but  a  single  furrow  on  the  vast  landscajie, 
which  is  as  wide  as  the  hoi'i/.on  ()n  either  side.  The  wearied 
train  that  crawls  slowly  up  the  hills  looks  like  a  mere  speck 
when  viewed  from  the  walls  of  Jerusalem  —  a  fly  upon  the 
nose  of  the  Sphinx,  a  beelk^  on  the  face  of  the  })yramids.  It 
does  not  affect  the  real  life  of  Jerusalem. 

The  railway  stops  short,  and  it  is  well  that  it  should,  a 
good  mile  from  tlie  city,  and,  getting  into  I'ickety  carriages, 
Avhicii  have  evi(lei\tly  done  duty  in  some  more  civilized  com- 
munity, we  have  come  at  last  to  oui'  hotel  at  the  gates  of  the 
most  famous  city  in  the  world.  I  do  not  envy  the  man 
whose  heart  does  not  beat  a  little  faster,  and  whose  ])ulses  do 
not  thrill  as  he  a})i)roaches  the  JalTa  gate  and  sees  the  Tower 
of  David  rearing  its  nuissive  head  above  the  time-stained 
Avails  of  the  city.  As  he  remembers  all  that  has  occurred 
within  those  walls  ;  as  he  calls  to  mind  that  here  David  sang 
and  Solomon  held  his  coui't ;  tliat  here  the  Queen  of  Sheba, 
Avas  obliged  to  declare,  as  she  looked  on  all  the  treasures  that 
had  been  rathered  tofi-ether,  that  the  half  had  not  been  told 


lid,  a 
|iages, 
coin- 
)f  the 
inim 
'sdo 
L\nver 
iiined 
■urn'd 

ll  SiUlg 

>lieba. 

s  that 

In  told 


BEAUTIFUL  FOR  SITUATION. 


451 


liei'  of  the  riches  that  were  hea[)e(l  within  tiiose  walls;  as  he 
reiiienibers  the  prophets  wlio  here  spoUe  the  warnin<i;  wortls 
of  God,  of  Xeheiniah  Avho  reared  again  the  prostrate  walls, 
of  the  people  wlio  woi-kod  willingly,  swoi-d  in  (jiie  hand  and 
trowel  in  the  other,  to  luring  back  the  ancient  glory  to  the 
deserted  city  ;  alxjve  all,  as  one  renieinbers  the  Divine  trag- 
edy that  was  here  enacted  of  the  trial,  the  scourging,  the 
indignities  and  cross-bearing  of  the  Son  of  God  ;  he  must  be 
dull  and  insensate,  indeed,  who  looks  on  Jerusalem  for  the 
first  time  unmoved. 

But  even  wei'e  there  hei'e  no  suprcnu'  historical  associa- 
tions for  the  Christian,  Jerusalem  woidd  even  be  an  interest- 
inu'  citv.  Even  then  would  the  sentiment  of  the  Psalmist  be 
true,  that  she  is  l)eautiful  for  situation,  even  if  not  at  })resent 
the  joy  of  the  whole  earth.  Imagine  a  bare  and  rocky 
})lateau,  thickly  studded  with  stone  houses,  and  surroimded 
to  the  very  edge,  where  it  (lij)s  oil"  into  the  steep  valley,  by  a 
high  wall.  On  ail  sides  imagine  bleak,  gray,  granite  hills, 
overtopping  the  plateau.  Imagine  between  these  distant 
hills  and  this  little  table-land  on  which  Ave  are  staniling, 
black  and  cavernons  valleys,  the  np[)er  ami  lower  pools  of 
Gihon  on  one  side,  the  valley  of  ,rehosha})hat  on  another, 
running  into  the  valley  of  the  Kedron  to  the  east.  Every- 
Avliere  imagine  bare,  j)recipitous  hills,  scowling  rocks  denuded 
of  all  soil  and  vegetation,  gray  and  forbidding  but  nnijestic 
in  their  very  barrenness,  and  you  have  a  picture,  drawn  very 
imperfectly  and  riulely,  to  be  sure,  but  giving  some  rough 
idea  of  modern  Jerusalem. 

In  ancient  days  there  was  doubtless  much  more  here  to 
make  the  heart  g-lad.  The  hills  were  covered  with  smiling 
vineyards,  terraces  rising  tier  above  tier  on  the  iiillside 
alforiled  standing  ground  for  corn  and  grain  and  various 
vegetation;   frequent  villages  dotted   the  hillsides  and  the 


462 


PROUD,    EVEN   IN   DEf'AV. 


IP' 


valleys;  and,  in  everv  wav,  the  countrv  showed  that  it  wiis 
not  unwortliy  ol'  the  eiih»gies  jnunouneed  upon  it,  the  huul  of 
milk  and  honey,  of  corn  and  wine,  and  of  everything  that 
typilied  prosperity. 

But  the  feet  of  trampling  armies  have  done  their  work, 
the  oppression  of  tyrannical  governments  and  the  gradual 
decay  of  national  spirit  have  reduced  the  land  to  a  ])overty- 
stricken  dependency  of  the  Sublime  Porte.  The  mighty  ai'o 
fallen,  indeed,  but  with  all  these  changes,  political,  inchisti'ial, 
and  agricultural,  Jerusalem  still  rears  its  ])roud  head  among 
the  surrounding  valleys,  ami  even  in  its  decay  and  I'uin  tells 
everv  passiim-  traveler  what  a  lordlv  citv  it  used  to  be. 

From  without  nothing  cc^uld  l)e  ])rouder  oi'  grander  than 
this  city  of  the  kings ;  from  within  nothing  could  well  be 
meaner  or  nu:>re  beggarly.  Let  us  enter  l)y  the  Jaffa  gate. 
Even  Avhen  well  within  the  walls  we  are  not  transported 
back  to  the  early  centuries  by  sudden  leaps  or  bouiuls,  for 
the  first  sign  that  stares  us  in  the  face  is  that  of  the  I'rince 
of  Dragonuins,  Thomas  Cook,  whose  name,  it  is  safe  to  say, 
is  more  familiar  than  that  of  any  other  man  in  the  far  East. 
Then  our  eyes  rest  u])on  a  modern  hotel,  Avhicli  even  in  this 
ancient  city  rejoices  in  the  name  of  "  The  Xew  Hotel."  In 
the  stores  beneath  this  hotel  and  on  the  streets  adjoining  are 
various  slioj)s  where  all  kinds  of  articles  of  olive  wood  are 
sold,  —  candlesticks  and  inkstands,  penholders  and  book- 
racks,  and  ever\'  possible  thing  that  can  be  carved  or  whittled 
out  of  the  beautifully-grained  olive  tree.  Here,  too,  we  find 
dealers  in  Bethlehem  mother-of-pearl,  and  in  Jerusalem 
crosses  of  silver,  in  ])hylacteries  and  ancient  manuscripts, 
and  all  kiiuls  of  bric-a-brac. 

But  these  places  have  comparatively  little  significance  or 
attraction  for  us.  As  soon  as  possible  Ave  will  dive  into  the 
heart  of  the  citv  and  see  Jerusalem  as  it  is. 


THE   ANCIENT   FORTRESS  — THE  MODERN  CITY.  453 


Fii'st,  liowevor,  let  us  got  a  littlu  idea  <»1'  the  liistory  of 
this  most  fjiinous  city  of  all  tlieag-es.  It  will  ho  roiiioinhored 
that  tho  city  is  built  on  the  ancient  frontier  line  between 
#lu(lah  and  Uonjaniin,  and  for  many  years  before  it  was  made 
tho  ca))ital  of  .ludea  by  the  coiujuost  of  David,  it  was  a 
stron<^  fortress  of  the  ancient  Canaanites.  Some  have  sup- 
])osod  that  it  was  a  very  lai'ji^e  city  even  before  David's  time  ; 
but  it  is  altog-ether  probable  that  it  was  only  on(i  of  the 
many  mountain  fortresses  that  were  found  in  dilferent  parts 
of  Palestine,  and  which  were  used  as  places  of  refuge  in  the 
stormy  times  that  ]n'evailed. 

]>ut  the  conquest  of  the  city  by  David  and  its  magniticent 
enlargement  and  endjoUishnient  by  Solonum  made  it  ''the 
joy  of  the  whole  earth,"  and  this,  in  a  religious  sense,  it  has 
continued  to  be  to  millions  of  devout  heai'ts,  in  spite  of  sieges, 
wars,  famines,  and  manifold  disasters. 

The  modern  city  may  be  said  to  date  from  the  time  of 
the  Crusades,  for  the  j)rinci])al  streets  are  the  same  now  as 
in  the  Twelfth  Centurv.  They  are  arched  over  in  many 
places,  and  the  markets  and  ])arts  of  the  Via  Dolorosa  are 
completely  covered.  There  are  now  four  quarters,  of  which 
the  Mohammedans  occupy  the  northeast,  the  Jews  the 
southeast,  the  Armenians  the  southwest,  and  the  Christians 
the  northwest ;  the  most  disreputable,  uncleanly  of  all  l)eing 
the  Jewish  quarters.  For  many  years  the  ])opulation 
steadily  decreased  until,  in  1S8S,  l)ut  11,000  peo])le  re- 
mained. Now,  however,  within  the  walls  and  without, 
there  are  some  47,000  people,  of  whom  27,000  are  Jews. 
Comparatively  small  as  is  the  Jewish  population  in  this 
s])iritual  capital  of  Judaism,  it  is  far  larger  tiuin  in  former 
years,  and  at  the  present  rate  of  increase  it  is  only  a  matter 
of  time  before  the  cry,  "Jerusalem  for  the  Jews,"  will  be 
something  more  than  an  em]>ty  sentiment. 


UfT' 


45-4 


JERUSALEM    AT   THE   EASTEK    FESTIVAL 


A  piitlictic  story  tells  iis  tli;it  six  liiindrcd  vcjirs  ;i,i;o  there 
wel'e  not  .lews  eiloil^^li  ill  .)  el'iis;ilelii  to  iiiiike  ii|)  all  iiiKlieliee 
for  a  synii;^(),i:iie  meet  in;:',  w  liicli,  aecoi'diiii;'  totlieir  law.  re- 
(|iiires  tell  |)ersoiis.  and  wlieii  in  despair  the  nine  forlorn 
straii^^crs  came  to;^vther  in  the  home  land  of  their  lathers, 
waih'nu;' and  lanientatioii  was  heard  heeaiise  there  were  not 
eiioliuh  of  them  ill  the  once  proild  eily  to  eoiidiicl  the  ser\iee 
aee(»rdiii^' to  their  usual  forni.  .Inst  at  this  iniict  lire,  when 
their  depression  and  sorrow  was  at  its  heiiiht.the  tradition 
^•oes  on  to  say  that  I^lijah  appeared,  iiiahin^'  the  tenth  ])er- 
soli  in  the  eoinpaiiy.  and  at  the  same  time  making'  the  meel- 
\\\'^  possible. 

At  certain  jieriods  of  the  year  the  population  is  wrv 
laru'el\'  increased  l>y  \isitini:'  pilj^rims.  se\(i'al  thousands  of 
whom  come,  especially  at  I'lasler  time,  to  worship  in  the 
sacred  city.  ( )ii  t  his  occasion,  as  has  heeii  said  hy  a  IraNcler 
who  recently  \isite(|  the  city  at  the  time  of  this  ;^reat 
festi\al:  "  The  st  reets  of  .leriisaleiii  present  a  straii'ie  .spec- 
tacle from  the  iiiinierous  national  costumes  seen  toizcther. 
'I'lie  I'Jiropeaii  tourists,  the  'I'ui'kish  ni/am.  the  hooded  Ar- 
menian, t  he  loiii^-haired  (ireek  monk-,  are  min^'led  with  the 
iiat  i\'e  peasants  ill  yellow  tiirhaiisand  stripeij  niaiit  les.  wit  h 
Armenia'  itilLi'rims  weariii;^'  hroad  Vi-(\  sashes,  .lews  in 
()rieiital  co>,iiime  or  with  the  Uw  cap  and  lo\clocksof  the 
I'hai'isce,  Kiissiaiis  in  knee  hoots  and  padde*!  rohes.  and 
native  Jadies  in  white  inaiith's  and  hlack'  veils.  'I'he 
architecture  of  the  city,  ()rieiital.  (iothic.  lly/.aiil iiie.  or 
Italian,  tells  the  same  story  that  .leriisaleiii  ha^  heeii  for 
ei;ihteen  centuries  a  holy  city  in  the  eyes  of  .lew.  ( 'hrislian. 
and  Moslem  alike,  and  the  religious  center  of  half  the 
world."" 

l!iit  let  lis  plilli;:e  into  the  heart  of  the  city,  Hot  at  Maslei'- 
ti(h'  when  it  has  on  its  iiolida\'  attire,  hut  on  an  ordiiiar\'  dav 


THE   (  ITV  S    KVKItVDAV    ASI'HCT, 


455 


wvy 

(is  (.1' 

I    tlic 

|)('C- 

lirl'. 

Ar- 

with 
s    in 
r  the 
and 
Tlu- 
c.    <»r 
II   tor 
islian, 
r   till" 

lasl'.'i'- 
i-v  (lav 


of  tin;  year,  w  lii'ii  -Ifnisalciii.  so  to  spcjik,  is  in  its  woi'kiiin' 
clotlics,  and  vci'v  dii'l  \V()rkiiiii'  dot  lies  tiicy  arc  The 
liai'i'ow  streets  are  111  led  with  i'iil)hish  and  dirt  wliieh.  at'tei' 
a  soakin;^'  I'ain,  render  llieni  ahnost  ini[).issahle.     'I'he  nai-row 


vM 


HKiiCWC.    DKIiVISIIIS,    .niil'^M.Ii.M. 

side  streets  ai'(^  worse  si  ill,  for  jiarhaue  ^>\'  e\-ery  kind,  cats, 
dead  and  ali\'e.  ;4'o;ils,  cat  I  le,  and  donkeys  make  locomotion 
anyl  hini;'  l»nl  a  luxury. 

II'  not  a  luxury.  lio\ve\-et'.  a  walk  throuuh  .Jerusalem  is  at 
least  lull  of  al»s(»rl»in^'  interest.  Some  of  the  streets,  as  has 
hueii  said,  are  com|ilelely  I'ool'ed  (»\cr,  and   tiie  I  ra  veler  I'eels 


45G 


STREET   SCENES   IN   THE   HOLY   CITY. 


01  \ 


i  11 


ii; 


that  he  is  walking  through  a  continuous  niui'ket-j)hice,  with 
little  stalls  <^n  either  side  for  the  sale  of  an  almost  uniniaain- 
able  variety  of  goods.  Amber  beads  occupy  one  stall,  and  a 
hundred  strings  hanging  from  the  roof  and  dangli)ig  fi-oni 
the  sides  tempt  to  a  j)urchase  the  lover  of  this  beautiful  sub- 
stance. Xext,  ])erhaps,  is  a  sho])  lilled  with  old  shoes  in  all 
varieties  of  dila])idation,  which  were  woi'ii  out  ten  years  ago 
and  have  never  seen  blacking-brush  since  the  day  they  w^'re 
made.  Next  to  this  is  the  cavei'iious  den  of  a  baker,  with 
his  glowing  oven  in  tiie  rear,  fr(^m  which  he  ])ulls  out  every 
now  and  then,  with  a  wooden  shovel,  a  long  cake  of  dirty- 
looking  bread,  which  he  piles  u})  on  the  counter  before  him 
like  so  much  cordwood  cut  into  three-feet  lengths. 

Next  to  the  baker  a  dealer  in  incense  has  his  sho}).  foi"  the 
incense  merchant  is  an  important  personage  in  Jerusalem. 
His  wares  come  in  cakes  and  sticks  and  broken  nuggets,  and 
are  of  all  varieties  of  flavor  and  spiciness.  Next  we  see  a 
dealer  in  crucifixes  aiul  religious  emblems,  and  hoi'riblo 
pictures  of  the  Sacred  Heart.  Still  another  shop  is  devoiefl 
to  rosaries ;  Jind  strings  of  beads  of  everv  varietv  and  com- 
plexion  and  substance  of  Avhich  beads  can  be  made  are 
displayed  for  sale.  Then  comes  a  Initcher's  sho]),  ])ossibly 
with  a  grinning  ;ind  bloody  calf  s  head  protruding  over  the 
doorway,  as  a  sign  of  the  goods  that  are  kept  within. 

Here,  too,  are  the  dealers  in  the  beautiful  Bethlehem 
mother-of-pearl  work,  in  sih'er  Avare  of  Damascus,  and  in- 
numerable shoi)s  where  articles  carved  from  olive  wood  may 
be  ]nirchased.  At  eveiy  street  corner  is  the  money-changer 
with  his  little  pile  of  gold  and  silver  and  coi)per  before  him, 
ready  to  turn  your  najioleons  or  [)oun(ls  into  chereks  and 
mejidieh  at  a  most  ruinous  discount,  for  Shylock  has  his  own 
home  here  in  Jerusalem,  and  will  always  take  his  pound  of 
flesh  if  he  can  net  it. 


THE   PASSING   CROWD. 


457 


iu- 
iimy 
iger 
him. 
iuul 
Dwn 
(1  of 


As  we  walk  along  the  streets  tlie  })assers-ln'  are  (juite  as 
interesting  as  the  shops  on  either  liand.  Here  conies  a  lordly 
Kavass,  gorgeous  in  his  red  and  yellow  katileh,  Avho  carries 
off  his  startlinff  costume  with  the  utmost  diy^nitv. 

There  are  few  people  in  the  woi'ld  who  can  stand  so  much 
barbaric  ornamentation  as  the  Syrian  Kavass  Avithout  betray- 
ing self-consciousness.  Behind  the  Kavass,  ])erhaps,  is  a 
veiled  beauty  robed  in  white  fi'om  to])  to  toe,  with  only  her 
black  ey.-s  peering  out  innn  under  the  I'im  of  her  head  gear. 
Sometimes  she  Avears  a  black  mask  of  some  thin  material 
draAvn  ch)se!y  aver  her  face,  through  Avhich  she  can  see,  but 
behind  Avhich  she  is  utterly  invisible  to  prying  eyes  that  nuiy 
look  upon  her. 

In  any  other  city  it  Avould  be  startling  to  see  these  white- 
robed,  black-masked  creatures  suddenly  turn  a  corner  u})on 
the  unsuspecting  traveler.  He  almost  imagines  that  he  is  in 
the  land  of  the  '*  Avhite  ca])s,"'  and  that  the  masks  mean  mur- 
der and  robbery  and  all  kinds  of  personal  violence.  I>ut  the 
maskers  noiselesslv  ciide  awav  Avithout  offering  to  molest 
the  quietest  of  traA'elers.  Behind  them,  perha))s,  comes  a 
beffffar  Avith  a  tale  of  Avoe  not  onlv  committed  to  heart,  but 
often  Avritten  on  his  dirty,  I'epulsive  features  as  Avell. 

There  are,  of  course,  no  Avheeled  vehicles  Avithin  the  walls, 
for  the  narrow  streets  Avould  not  admit  of  such  carriages. 
All  the  loads  are  carried  by  donkeys  or  camels,  or  on  the 
braAvny  backs  of  men  and  women.  Often  we  meetadoidcey 
scarcely  biggei'  than  a  Xewfcmndland  dog,  with  a  big  Turk 
or  Jew  sitting  far  back,  almost  on  its  very  tail,  Avhile  the 
man's  feet  nearly  drag  on  the  ground  at  every  step.  These  big 
feet  he  keeps  swaying  l)ack  and  forth,  and  at  every  moA'e  of 
the  poor  little  animal  his  ci'uel  heels  dig  into  the  donkey's 
side  and  urge  him  t(j  further  exertion. 

The  camels  naturally  have  the  right  of  Avav  in  these  nar- 


458 


CAMELS   AND   WATER   CAKRIERS. 


row  roiuls.  Their  liuo'o  Ijiilk  ])reocc'upies  the  whole  street. 
The  donkeys  liave  to  make  themselves  small  in  side  i)assage- 
ways,  while  ])edestrians  flatten  themselves  against  the  wall 
on  either  side  as  hest  thev  can  and  let  the  splav-footed  sliip 
of  the  desert,  with  his  sneei'ing  undei'  lij)  and  nose  high  in 
air,  showing  contempt  tor  every  smaller  creature,  pass  through 
at  his  leisui'e. 

Behind  the  beugars  and  the  camels  often  come  the  water- 
carriers,  their  goat-skins  almost 
bursting  with  a  dii'ty  li(|uid 
snp[)osed  to  he  water,  and  that 
dri))s  u[)on  the  ground  from 
every  tiny  crevice.  Add  to 
these  olijects.  she(>j)  and  many 
dogs,  and  children,  lying  pro- 
miscuously about  the  sti'eets  in 
every  dirty  doorway,  and  crowd- 
ing evei'v  sid(>  alley  fi'om  wall 
to  wall,  and  you  have  some  idea 
of  Jerusalem  in  its  everyday 
a])i)arel. 

After  all  is  said  there  is 
1'%,'^^  something  dignified  and  impres- 
sive about  man\'  of  the  people 
whom  v.-e  meet  in  the  streets, 
for  the  Syrian,  though  indolent 
and  deceitful,  is  polite  and  gen- 
tlemanly at  the  same  time.  When  he  meets  you  and 
desires  a  word,  he  will  lay  his  right  hand  on  his  forehead, 
lips,  and  head,  for  a  moment,  which  means,  in  the  expressive 
symbolism  in  the  country,  ''in  thought,  word,  and  deed,  I 
am  your  servant."  If  he  wishes  to  show  special  respect,  he 
will  stoo[)  down  and  then  raise  his  right  hand  over  his  head, 


A    WATKH    (  AlUilKU. 


SACKED   ASSOCIATIONS. 


-i59 


ro   IS 

)l'OS- 


oon- 
iind 


'ct,  he 
head, 


which  luciins  that  he  is  casting  (hist  and  ashes  (n'er  himself 
as  a  mark  of  limiiility.  J'lit  he  (h)es  all  this  with  such  a 
gracious  and  digiiided  air  that,  sei'vile  as  are  its  syiuljols,  ho 
seems  to  be  doing  himself  an  honor  (|uite  as  much  as  the  one 
to  whom  lie  speaks. 

Xow  let  us  view  the  people  of  Jerusalem  at  their  woi'shij), 
for  in  the  churches  we  find  the  chief  characteristics  of  the 
Holy  City  underscored  and  accentuated. 

The  fii'st  church  to  which  ahuost  every  traveler  weiids 
his  way,  is  the  Church  of  the  IToly  Sepulchre,  and  here  are 
crowchid  together  more  traditions,  relics,  and  sacred  associa- 
tions than  in  any  ])laco  of  similar  size  in  the  world.  Xot 
that  the  traditions  are  for  the  most  ])art  trustwoi'thy,  not 
tiiat  the  saci'ed  associations  ai'(^  really  associated  with  saci'ed 
facts;  not  that  the  relics  ar(>  fi-ee  from  suspicion  as  to  their 
genuineness,  but  despite  all  this  doubt  and  uncertainty,  the 
very  fact  that  devout  souls  of  many  nations,  however  mis- 
taken and  superstitious,  luive  here  fed  tlieir  faith  and  I'over- 
ence  for  generations  past,  make  it  in  some  sense  a  holy 
place  to  tliose  who  come  after  them  in  succeeding  years. 

Whatever  may  be  the  absolute  facts  in  the  case,  and  they 
are  very  difficult  to  determine,  millions  of  devout  hearts  have 
believed  that  under  the  roof  which  covers  the  Church  of  the 
Sepulchre  is  the  spot  where  our  Lord  was  crucilied,  the 
very  stone  on  which  he  was  laid  for  burial,  the  new  tomb  of 
rock  in  which  lie  was  placed  when  He  tlescended  into  hades, 
the  stone  on  which  He  sat  when  He  was  crowned  Avith 
thorns  and  scourged  with  thongs,  and  the  stocks  in  which 
His  feet  were  thrust  during  the  cruel  night  of  trial. 

Every  other  sacred  tradition  which  could  find  lodgment 
has  been  crowded  into  this  one  spot,  even  to  the  tond)  of 
Adam  himself,  which  is  located  liere. 

To  be  sure,  it  is  altogether  probable  that  the  place  of 


m 


m 


'    ill 


i     J 


4G0 


THE   CHURCH   OF   THE    HOLY    SEPULCHRE. 


crucifixi(jn  w.is  noui'ly  halt'  a  mile  away,  outside  the  walls  of 
the  ])resent  city.  The  sacred  })laces  and  relics  within  the 
church  rest  upon  a  very  shaky  traihtion,  to  the  eil'ect  that 
Helena,  the  mother  of  Constantine,  had  a  dream  that  liei'e 
she  should  find  the  true  cross.  Causin<>'  her  servants  to  di"- 
in  the  place  the  dream  indicated,  she  found  not  one  cross,  but 
three,  one  of  which  s})oke  to  her,  and  by  this  token,  she  knew 
that  it  was  the  true  cross. 

On  this  poor  and  meagre  soil,  which  l)ears  upon  its  very 
face  the  nuirks  of  its  untrustworthiness,  are  the  traditions  of 
the  sacred  place  built,   and  yet  thev  have  been  hallowed. 
by  the  faith,  the  prayers,  and  tears,  and  rapturous  joy  of 
myriads  of  pilgrims. 

It  is  very  sure  that  nea/'  this  place,  if  not  upon  this  actual 
site,  our  Lord  suffered  and  bled  and  died.  These  monu- 
ments which  are  here  erected  give  the  eye  of  faith  something 
visible  to  behold,  and  the  heart  something  tangible  to  cling- 
to,  and,  if  one  can  but  prevent  his  reverence  from  degener- 
ating into  superstitions  awe,  his  soul  will  surely  be  blessed 
by  a  visit  to  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre. 

One  thing  is  certain,  a  sumptuously  decorated  church  was 
erected  here  in  the  early  part  of  the  fourth  century,  and  even 
then  it  Avas  supposed  to  cover  the  Holy  Sepulchre. 

Many  ui)s  and  downs,  destructions,  and  rebuildings  have 
come  to  this  famous  church.  In  (il-f  it  was  destroyed  by  the 
Persians.  It  was  immediately  rebuilt  and  was  over  and  over 
again  destroyed  or  greatly  damaged  by  the  Moslems.  In 
lOUU,  the  Crusaders  entered  the  church,  and  what  a  ])ictur- 
es(]ue  sight  it  must  have  been  when,  barefooted  and  ragged* 
but  bearing  crowns  of  palms  and  uttering  songs  of  praise,  in 
the  last  vear  of  the  eleventh  century  Avliich  had  seen  such 
heroic  struggles  to  regain  the  holy  city,  they  marched  in 
under  the  dome  of  the  Church  (jf  the  Holy  Se})ulchre. 


VIGILANT   TLKKIS?[   Gl'AKDS. 


401 


s  have 
,y  the 
ul  over 
■is.  In 
pictur- 

nise,  iu 

Ml  such 

hed  in 


As  can  1k'  easily  iiiiau'iiu'd,  ihcy  wci'c  not  content  with 
the  inea<>Te  Htth'  chnrc!  which  th('\-  found  'iuanUni''  the 
holy  tonil),  so  they  enhii'^^vd  it  and  heaiitilied  it  and  built 
many  (.'hapels  around  it. 

A  century  later  tlu'  Arabs  nearly  destroyed  the  buildings 
once  more. 

.Vgain  the  wai'i'iors  of  the  Thii'd  Crusade  rebuilt  it. 

Fifty  years  latei-  it  was  again  destroyed,  only  to  bo 
rebuilt  (luring  tlu'  next  half  century.  Thus  it  met  with 
many  lluctuations  of  foi-tune.  good  and  bad.  until,  in  l^os,  it 
Avas  entii'ely  burned  down,  the  dome  fell  in  and  eruslied  the 
chapel  and  almost  nothing  was  saved  except  the  east  wing 
of  the  building.  Ihit  two  years  later  the  (ireeks  and  Ar- 
menians erected  a  new  church,  wliich  is  substantially  the  one 
Avhicli  we  are  now  to  visit. 

As  we  entei'.  the  tirst  persons  whom  we  see  are  not  the 
])ilgrims  who  have  come  from  .;11  parts  of  the  woi'ld  to  do 
honor  to  their  Lord,  but  the  Turkish  guards  who  have 
charge  of  the  i)lace.  and  we  are  sadly  reminded  of  the  fact 
that  the  (iivek  and  Latin  and  Armenian  (Mirisiians  cannot 
be  trusted  to  live  togetlu'r  in  unity,  even  within  sight  of  the 
])lace  of  their  Lord's  supi'eme  sutl'erings.  but  must  be  kej)t 
i'l'om  knocking  each  other's  heads  and  cutting  each  other's 
throats  by  a  cordon  of  Mohammedan  custodians,  who  ai'e 
never  able  to  relax  their  vigilance  lest  the  Christians  come 
to  blows. 

The  lirst  sacred  object  that  we  see  is  the  stone  of  unction 
or  anointment  on  which  tiie  body  of  Jesus  is  said  to  have 
been  laid  when  it  was  anointed  l)y  Xicodemus. 

Let  us  recall  the  pathetii-  story.  "After  this"  (after 
our  Loi'd's  death)  says  the  Sacred  Nan'ati\e,  •'Joseph 
of  Arimathea  being  a  disciple  of  Jesus,  but  secretly  foi'  fear 
of  the  Jews,  besought  Pilate  that  he  might  take  away  the 

?8 


in 


4G2 


WHERE   THE   BODY    OF  JEST'S   WAS   LAID. 


;■ 


body  of  Josus,  and  Pilato  gave  liiiii  leave,  lie  came,  there- 
fore, and  took  the  b(jdy  of  Jesus,  and  there  came  also  Xico- 
demus,  wliich  at  first  came  to  Jesus  by  night,  and  brought  a 
mixture  of  myn-h  and  aloes,  about  an  hundred  ])()unds 
Aveight,  Then  took  they  the  body  of  Jesus,  and  wound  it  in 
linen  cloths  with  the  spices,  as  the  mjinner  of  the  Jews  is  to 
bury." 

How  often  in  imagination  we  have  seen  this  pathetic 
])icture  when  just  at  twilight  beside  the  new  i-ock  tomb  these 
two  secret  disciples  of  Jesus  came  to  do  their  last  reverence 
to  Him  Avhom  in  life  thev  loved  but  never  dared  to  own. 

They  Avere  both  noted  men  and  mend^ers  of  the  San- 
hedrin.  They  both  recognized  in  Jesus  the  si)otless  Lamb  of 
God.  Their  hearts  had  l)een  touched  by  His  holy  life  and  l)y 
Ilis  gentle  words,  l)ut  not  until  He  died  foi'  them  and  for  all 
the  world  Avere  they  willing  to  acknoAvledge  their  secret 
faith.  ]>ut  then  they  came  together,  neither  a])parently 
knoAving  of  the  other's  intention,  to  bury  Him  avIio  had  re- 
cei\'ed  such  scant  rcA'erence  in  His  life.  And  this  Avas  the 
spot  at  Avhich  tradition  and  the  belief  of  innumerable  eccles- 
iastics said  they  met.  And  here  on  this  stone  over  Avhicli 
are  burning  many  gold  and  silver  lamps,  thej^  reverently 
hiid  His  body. 

To  be  sure  it  detracts  from  our  interest  someAvhat  to  be 
told  l)y  our  guide-book  that  this  stone  has  often  been 
changed  and  has  been  in  the  possession  of  numerous  re- 
liofious  comnumities  in  succession.  In  the  fifteenth  centurv 
it  belonged  to  the  Copts,  in  the  sixteenth  to  the  Gregorians, 
from  Avhom  the  Latins  purchased  permissions  for  5,000 
piastres  to  burn  candles  ii})on  it.  The  present  stone,  this 
same  hard-hearted  guide-booiv  goes  on  to  say,  is  of  reddish 
yellow  marble,  eight  and  a  half  feet  long,  four  feet  bi'oad, 
and  Avas  placed  here  in  1808. 


^ 


THE   ANGEL  H   ROOM. 


4G3 


to  be 

been 

bus  re- 

illtlU'V 

loritins, 

5,0UU 

le,  this 

leddisli 

broad, 


But  wlhit  care  we  for  its  dimensions  to  an  incli  (  AVlio 
would  care  to  know  of  its  geolog-ic  formation^  J  low  im- 
pertinent are  vul^-ar  facts  when  we  remember  that  upon 
tliis  stone  have  fallen  the  hot  tears  of  hundreds  of  thousands 
of  ])iln'rims,  that  it  has  been  ])assionately  kissed  hy  myriads 
of  devoted  lips,  and  has  received  the  consecration  vows 
of  a  multitude  of  devout  hearts  whose  creeds  indeed  are 
different,  but  whose  love  for  the  su])reme  Lord  never  wanes. 

A  pathetic  touch  t)f  interest  is  added  to  this  stone  when 
we  remember  that  formerly  pilgrims  were  in  the  habit  of 
measuring  it  with  a  view  to  having  their  winding  sheets 
made  of  the  same  length. 

A  few  steps  to  the  left  of  the  stone  of  unction  we  see  a 
small  enclosure  built  around  a  stone,  which  is  said  to  mark  a 
spot  where  the  women  stood  and  watched  the  anointing  of 
Christ's  body. 

As  we  go  on  toward  the  center  of  the  church  we  come  to 
the  supreme  object  of  worship,  none  other  than  the  spot  which 
is  believed  to  be  the  place  where  our  Lord's  body  lay  in  its 
rock  cavern  for  three  days.  Over  this  spot  is  erected  a 
marble  chapel  which  in  some  respects  is  Ijeautiful,  but  very 
much  marred  for  sober  eyes  by  the  amount  of  tinsel  and  the 
number  of  gewgaws  that  are  lavished  upon  it. 

The  first  part  of  the  chapel  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  is 
called  the  Angel's  Koom.  In  the  center  is  a  stone  set  in 
marble,  which  our  guide  solemnly  avers  is  the  one  which 
the  angel  rolled  away  from  the  mouth  of  the  sei)ulchre  and 
on  which  he  afterwards  sat.  In  this  chapel  are  burning  fif- 
teen gold  and  silver  lamps,  five  of  whicii  belong  to  the 
Greeks,  five  to  the  Latins,  four  to  the  Armenians,  and  one  to 
the  Copts,  and  the  air  is  thick  and  heavy  with  burning  in- 
cense and  other  odors  wliicli  are  more  easy  to  imagine  than 
to  describe. 


W 


H- 


:iti 


ill 


4(;4 


INTERESTTNO    T.VT   ARSFRD   TRADITIONS. 


in 


I)iit  oven  yet  we  liavo  not  come  to  tlio  most  holy  place, 
Tor,  squeeziii*,''  through  a  wvy  low  and  naiTow  dooi"  wliich  is 
merely  ;k  hole  in  the  wall,  in  I'act,  and  through  which  one  has 
to  hack  in  a  vvvy  uiulignilled  attitude,  we  come  to  the  chapel 
of  the  sepulchre  itself. 

This  is  onl\'  ahout  six  feet  hv  six  and  when  ci'owded  witli 
half  a  do/.en  i)eopU\  as  it  always  is,  it  can  be  imagined  that 
even  devotion  and  reverence  does  not  allow  one  to  tarry 
h)ng,  since  the  half  dozen  other  pilgi'ims  besides  himself  are 
apt  to  be  greasy  llussians,  dirty  Copts,  Jilthy  Poles,  or  un- 
washed Italians. 

All  around  this  central  and  most  sacred  chapel  are  other 
chapels  of  less  significance  and  holiness,  but  yet  each  one  of 
which  enshi'ines  some  interesting  tradition.  Here,  for  in- 
stance, is  the  cha])el  of  Saint  Longinus,  the  soldier  who 
pierced  Christ's  side  with  his  spear.  The  ti'adition  says  that 
he  had  been  blind  of  one  eye,  but  that  some  of  the  water 
and  blood  from  the  side  of  our  Loi'd  spurted  into  his  blind 
eye  and  he  recovered  sight,  Avhereu{)on  he  repented  and 
became  a  Christian.  Next  is  "The  Cha})el  of  the  Parting  of 
the  liaiment,"  whose  name  indicates  the  tradition  associated 
with  it. 

Then  "The  Chai)el  of  the  Ci'owning  with  Thorns,"  where 
the  very  stone  is  shown  on  which  Christ  sat  Avhen  the  cruel 
thorns  were  crowded  upon  His  brow.  Here,  also,  are  such 
chajiels  as  Saint  ]\Iary,  dedicated  to  the  Virgin,  the  chapel  of 
Adam,  where  traditi(jn  says  the  first  man  was  buried,  though 
how  his  bones  came  to  be  transported  to  Palestine  nobody 
seems  to  know.  J>ut  no  ti'adition  is  too  wild  (3r  absui'd  for  the 
credulous  ])e()])le  who  cluster  here  to  believe,  and  they 
solemnly  assure  us  that  when  Christ  was  crucified  Ilis  blood 
flowed  through  a  cleft  in  the  rock  on  to  the  head  of  Adam, 
and  he  was  immediately  restored  to  life. 


r, 


THE   TKADITIONAI.   (iOl.CJOTHA. 


4(15 


:- 


where 
^  cruel 
V  such 
lapel  of 
though 
uobody 

fortlie 
il  they 
is  bh)oil 

Adain, 


But  as  if  it  was  not  enough  to  hury  A«hini  here  or  to 
invent  all  kinds  of  silly  tnulitions  about  our  great  forefathei', 
they  have  placed  the  tomb  of  ^felchizedek  here  also.  We 
have  not  yet  come  to  the  most  sacred  spot,  for  the  traditional 
Golgotha  yet  remains  to  be  visited. 

Catholic  historians  have  phiced  not  only  the  tomb  and  the 
place  of  Christ's  suffering,  but  ]\[ount  Calvary  itself  within 
the  limits  of  this  sanctuarv.  It  nuiv  verv  naturallv  be  asked 
by  the  reailer  how  this  can  be,  since  the  I'ible  distinctly  tells 
us  that  Christ  suffered  '•  without  the  walls." 

The  Papal  histoi'ian,  howevei",  is  ready  with  his  answer, 
for  he  tells  us  that  in  the  former  times  the  site  of  this  church 
was  outside  of  the  second  walls  of  Jerusalem,  and  that  the 
modern  walls  do  not  conform  to  the  ancient  ])redecessors. 
This  statement,  however,  must  be  received  with  a  very  lai'ge 
interrogation  jioint,  and  it  has  been  recently  proved,  all  but 
conclusively,  by  modern  scholars,  that  the  ])i'esent  walls 
follow  the  ancient  outlines  very  nearly,  and  that  the  site  of 
the  church  of  the  Holy  Se})ulchre  could  not  by  any  possi- 
bility ever  have  been  found  without  the  Avails  of  the  city. 

However,  as  we  said  before,  this  s[)ot  has  been  hallowed 
by  the  faith  of  innumerable  Christians  whose  belief  was  sup- 
ported, at  least  in  ancient  times,  by  very  scholarly  authority. 
Hundreds  of  books  have  been  written  on  the  subject  to  prove 
that  this  was  the  veritable  spot  where  our  Lord  bled,  suffered, 
and  died,  and  even  the  tradition-breaking  Protestant  need 
not  be  too  eager  to  disillusionize  the  world  when  he  comes 
within  these  sacred  precincts. 

Here  in  the  living  rock  we  see  an  opening  faced  with 
silver,  where  the  cross  on  which  our  Lord  died  Avas  said  to 
be  inserted.  Five  feet  distant  on  either  side  are  the  ci'osses 
of  the  two  thieves,  the  penitent  thief  on  the  right  and  the 
impenitent  thief  on  the  left.    While  about  the  same  distance, 


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406 


THE  RIVEN  ROCK. 


covered  with  a  brass  slide,  is  the  cleft  in  the  rock  about 
which  Saint  Matthew  tells  us  in  these  solemn  words :  "  Jesus, 
when  he  had  cried  again  with  a  loud  voice,  yielded  up  the 
ghost ;  and,  behold  the  veil  of  the  temple  was  "rent  in  twain 
from  the  top  to  the  bottom,  and  the  earth  did  quake,  and  the 
rocks  rent,  and  the  graves  were  opened,  and  many  bodies  of 
the  saints  which  slept  arose  and  came  out  of  the  graves  after 
His  resurrection  and  went  into  the  Holy  City,  and  appeared 
unto  many." 

This  cleft  is  said  by  the  superstitious  to  reach  to  the  very 
center  of  the  earth,  although  the  practical  e3'e  of  the  scien- 
tific man  says  it  is  only  about  six  inches  deep. 

As  I  have  said,  when  we  visited  the  Holy  Sepulchre  it 
was  not  on  a  feast  day.  but  on  one  of  the  ordinary  Sundays 
of  the  year,  and  yet  it  was  a  strange  and  striking  scene 
which  Ave  beheld  even  then.  The  whole  floor  of  the  church 
seemed  to  be  filled  with  black-bearded  priests  in  gorgeous 
vestments  and  jeweled  robes,  from  which  the  flashing  light 
of  the  innumerable  lamps  glanced  and  sparkled.  With 
solemn  intonations  and  measured  tread  they  marched  about 
the  Holy  Sepulchre,  slowly  waving  their  golden  lamps  and 
their  jeweled  vases,  from  which  the  smoking  incense  curled 
up  in  dense  clouds  to  heaven. 

Back  and  forth  and  around  they  marched,  solemnly 
chanting  their  dirges,  while  the  wondering  crowd,  gathered 
from  every  quarter  of  the  world,  looked  on  in  awe-struck 
silence. 

Here  were  Koords  in  their  sheep-skins,  Russians  in  their 
pilgrim  rags,  Armenians  in  their  picturesque  meal-bag-like 
garments,  Greeks  in  thf^iv  curious  hats  and  skirts,  Europeans 
of  every  degree  of  civilization,  and  Asiatics  of  every  degree 
of  barbarism.  And  yet  all  were  drawn  together  by  a  com- 
mon sentiment. 


QUARRELSOME  PILGRIMS.  467 

Though  they  sometimes  fall  out  and  fight  among  them- 
selves like  cats  and  dogs,  yet,  after  all,  there  is  a  common 
purpose  manifested  to  honor  the  common  Lord,  and  to  do 
reverence  to  Ilim  who  died  for  all  the  world.  We  can 
almost  forgive  their  wranglings  and  disputings  as  we  see 
the  genuine  devotion  which  seems  to  fill  many  of  the  hearts 
that  beat  under  the  rough  and  ragged  pilgrim's  garb.  There 
must  be  something  of  good  even  in  the  most  ignorant  and 
suspicious  of  them  all,  to  bring  them  on  this  long  and  toil- 
some pilgrimage  for  the  sake  of  doing  reverence  to  Ilim  to 
whom  their  hearts  are  blindly  reaching  out. 

If  we  have  some  regard,  however,  for  the  pilgrims  them- 
selves, we  have  very  little  patience  with  the  priests  and  relig- 
ious leaders  who  Avork  on  their  superstitions  and  trade  on 
their  prejudices. 

On  Easter  are  often  enacted  many  disorderly  scenes, 
which  produce    a    painful    impression    Avhen    the    Church 
of  the  Sepulchre  is  crowded  with  pilgrims  of  e^  cry  nctiou- 
ality,  and  especially  when  the  so-called  miracle  of  the  "  holy 
fire  "  is  produced.     "  On  this  occasion  thu  church  is  always 
crowded  with  spectators,"  we  are  told.     ''  It  is  said  that  the 
priests  besmear  the  wire  by  Avhich  the  lamp  is  suspended 
over  the  sepulchre  with  resinous  oil,  and  that  this  oil  is  set 
on  fire  from  the  roof.     Large  sums  are  paid  to  the  priests  by 
those  who  are  the  first  to  on  allowed  to  light  their  tapers 
from  the  sacred  flame  sent  from  heaven.      The  wild  and 
noisy  scene  begins  on  Good  Friday.     The  crowd  passes  the 
night  in  the  church  in  order  to  secure  places,  some  of  thein 
attaching  themselves  by  cords  to  the  sepulchre,  while  others 
run  round  it  in  anything  but  a  reverential  manner. 

"  About  two  o'clock  on  Easter  afternoon  a  procession  of 
the  superior  clergy  moves  around  the  sepulchre,  all  lamps 
having  been  carefully  extinguished  in  view  of  the  crowd. 


468 


TIIK   DKSCKNT   OF  TIIK   HACKED   FF.AME. 


Tlio  jMiti'iiU'cli  ciilci's  tlic  cliiijx'l  of  the  scpulcliro,  wliili'  llio 
priests  ])riiy  aiKl  tli(!  jx'oplo  arc  in  the  utmost  siis|)('nso. 

'•At  lon<^tli  the  lii'c  \vlii(;li  lias  conic  down  li-oiii  licavcii 
^Uuiiiis  tVom  tlio  s('|)iilclii'(>,  Wnt  jH'iests  oinoi'^'(!  with  u  l)iin«llo 
of  burniiif^'  tajmrs  and  tlioru  now  follows  an  indescribable 
tumult,  ev(M'y  one  endeavoring^  to  be  the  first  tog(!t  iiista|)er 
li<^hted.  Even  from  the  oallorv,  tapers  are  \vt  down  to  be 
lighted,  and  in  a  few  seconds,  the  whole  chui'cih  is  illuminated. 
Tills  however,  nevei'  happens  without  Ht^htini^-,  and  accidents 
generally  occur  owin«^'  to  the  ci'ush." 

In  ls;54an  awful  accident  occui'i-chI.  Six  thousand  ])eo- 
])le  w(M'e  in  the  church,  when  the  Turkish  <^uards,  thinking 
they  were  attacked,  sjn'ang  upon  the  pilgrims,  beat  many  of 
them  to  (loath,  and  in  the  scullh^  that  followed,  three  hun- 
<lr(>d  lives  w(!r(i  lost. 

Vet,  with  all  these  excrescences  and  uni)l«!asant  nanifes- 
tations  of  religious  zeal  and  fanaticism,  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  there  is  s<»mething  intensely  real  to  all  thesis  pil- 
grims in  tli(!S(!  traditional  sights.  People  do  not  undtn'go 
sufferings  to  se(!  that  which  tli((y  do  not  believe  with  intense 
devotion.  They  will  not  light  foi-  that  which  does  not  a])i)eal 
strongly  to  their  faith  and  love,  and  oven  the  disgraceful 
riots  which  have  bl(>tted  the  historv  of  the  Church  of  the 
Holy  S(!pulclire  more  than  once,  show  the  abiding  strength 
and  dominating  inlku^nco  of  the  cross  of  Christ  over  the  lives 
of  the  woi'ld's  millions. 


crrAPTEU  XXV. 

A  MKMOKAIJLK  WAf.K. 

Tlio  Via  Dolorosa  —  Fourteen  Htat ions  on  tlio  Way  to  tiio  CVoss  —  St.  Veron- 
ica and  jler  Ilandiu'rcliiel' —  Sonu;  'roiichiii^r  InseriptionH  — Outside  llij 
(Jates  — Our  (Jolwotiia  —  "  Tile  (Jreen  Mill  Fur  Away."  Oellisemaiie  — 
Tli(!  Stone  of  Treason  — A  Wondcjriul  View  — Our  liord's  IJroken- 
Hearled  Lament-  The  Itus.siiin  Tow(!r  — Tlui  Deud  Sea  — A  Marvelous 
Mirror— AhsalonrsTonih—Tlu!  Fate  of  an  Unlllial  Heprohale  — Tliu 
cave  of  Adullani  —  Neiio  and  Its  Lonely  (iriive— The  Village  of  Mary  and 
Martha— ThiMJreate.st  Miracle  of  the  A^cs— "  Dis  Way  to  de  Tonii) 
of  Lazar()os"  —  Th(!  Wretched  Inhahitants  of  Modern  Metlmiiy  —  The 
Tomb  of  Itachel  —  When!  Our  Lord  was  Horn  — Tht;  Marble  Cradle  — 
An  Imi)re.sHivt'  Si;,'ht—  Wran^'linjir  Christians  — Turki.sh  Guards  at  Our 
Lord's  Cradle  — A  Sad  Suggestion. 


NE  of  tlio  most  improssivo  and 
)n(!inonil)l<5  walks  that  wo  took 
within  the  Holy  ( 'ity  IchI  us  alon<r 
th(i  Via  Dolorosa,  thron<,'h  St. 
Stephen's  gate,  thenco  out  to  tho 
Mount  of  Olives  and  I{<^thany. 
H(!l'or(5  W(!  IcNive  tlus  sacrcid  city, 
let  us  all  take  sueii  a  walk  to- 
gether. 

This    traditional    "Street    of 
Pain  "  HovAUH  worthy  of  its  name, 
f<M'  i'.  is  a  dark  and  gloomy  road- 
way,  arched   overhead    through    much  of  its  cours(i   with 
vaulted  roofs,  and  reminding  one  at  almost  avory  footste[)  of 
the  sulfering  and  indignities  (uidured  by  the  Son  of  Man. 
To  bo  sure,  the  ancient  Way  of  tho  Cross,  even  if  it  fol- 

(40!)) 


' 


470 


ALONG  THE  WAY   OF  THE  CROSS. 


lowed  the  general  line  of  the  modern  street,  which  is  b}'  no 
rieans  certain,  must  have  been  many  feet  below  the  surface 
of  the  present  roadway,  for  the  accumulated  rubbish  of  the 
ages  and  the  many  sieges  to  which  Jerusalem  has  been  sub- 
ject have  buried  the  old  city  from  ten  to  forty  feet  below  the 
modern  city. 

However,  from  very  early  centuries,  the  way  which  our 

Lord  took  as  He  bore 
the  cross  to  his  own 
crucifixion,  has  been 
supposed  to  follow 
the  general  direction 
of  this  street. 

Ecclesiastical  au- 
thorities have  estab- 
lished what  they  call 
"  stations,"  at  points 
which  are  supposed 
to  represent  some 
particular  event  in 
the  sad  journey  of 
Jesus  to  the  cross. 
There  are  fourteen  of 
these  stations  in  all. 


A   STKKICT    IN   .JEUl'SALKM. 


One  of  them  indicates  the  spot  where  Simon  of  Cyrene  took 
the  cross  from  Christ.  Another  where  St.  Veronica  wij)ed 
the  sweat  from  our  Saviour's  brow,  the  image  of  his  face 
being  imprinted  on  her  handkerchief  forever  afterwards. 
The  eleventh,  twelfth,  thirteenth,  and  fourteenth  stations, 
are  in  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  itself,  to  wliich  the 
Via  Dolorosa  leads,  and  show  where  our  Lord  was  nailed  to 
the  cross,  where  He  was  taken  from  the  cross,  and  finally 
where  He  was  laid  in  the  new  rock  tomb. 


INSCRIPTIONS  ON  THE  WALLS. 


in 


Tliough  they  do  not  add  to  the  authenticity  of  the  events 
recorded,  yet  the  Latin  sentences  with  wliich  many  of  these 
Stations  are  marked,  add  a  certain  dignity  and  appearance  of 
reality  to  the  street.  For  instance,  a  tablet  on  the  house 
which  is  called  the  House  of  Pontius  Pilate  reads  as  follows: 

Ad  Arcum  Ecce  Homo 
Vbi  Pontius  Pilatm 
Christum 
Judms  Tmdidit  ut  crucijigeretur 

A  little  farther  on,  a  marble  slab  let  into  the  rough  Avail  of 
the  street  tells  us : 

Locus  ill  quo 
Appvehendit  Pilatus  Jesum 
et  Flagellant. 

While  near  the  outer  gate  we  find  the  inscription  : 

Et  Milites  Piece ntes  Coronam 
De  Spinis  imposuerunt. 

All  this  sonorous  Latin  simply  tells  us  the  story  which  in 
simple  language  we  have  read  a  thousand  times  in  the  Xine- 
teenth  chapter  of  John,  where  the  beloved  disciple  tells  us 
that  "  Pilate  therefore  took  Jesus  and  scourged  Him  and  the 
soldiers  platted  a  crown  of  thorns  and  put  it  upon  Ilis  head. 
And  they  put  on  Ilim  a  purple  robe,  and  said.  Hail,  King  of 
the  Jews,  and  they  smote  Him  with  their  hands.  Pilate, 
therefore,  went  forth  again  and  said  unto  them,  Behold  I 
bring  Him  forth  to  you  that  you  may  knou-  that  I  find  no 
fault  in  Him.  Then  came  Josus  forth  wearing  tlie  crown  of 
thorns,  and  the  purple  robe,  and  Pilate  said  unto  them, 
Behold  the  man." 

Now  we  are  not  far  from  the  wall  of  the  city,  and  pass- 
ing out  through  St.  Stephen's  gate,  which  is  surrounded  by 
cripples,  lepers,  and  beggars  in  all  stages  of  dilapidation  and 


472 


THE   HILL   OF  THE   CRUCIFIXION. 


disease,  we  find  ourselves  in  an  instant  out  of  the  reeking 
streets  of  tiie  filthy  city  in  the  sunlight  and  fresh  air  of 
God's  wide  country. 

Over  there,  a  little  to  the  left,  we  see  the  site  upon  which 
modern  Protestant  scholars  are  largely  agreed  is  the  site  of 
the  crucifixion  and  burial  of  Christ.  There,  indeed,  is  the 
"  ffreen  hill  far  awav,  without  the  citv  wall."  There  is  the 
gently  rounding  hilltop  which  might  well  be  called  by  the 
picturesque  and  imaginative  Orientals  "  the  place  of  the 
skull."  There,  underneath  this  hillside,  near  to  the  reputed 
grotto  of  Jeremiah,  is  a  rock  tomb,  hewn  out  of  the  solid 
stone,  a  tomb  which  has  never  been  finished,  and  which 
answers  in  every  particular  to  what  we  might  expect  of 
Joseph's  new  tomb. 

Here  our  imagination  is  fully  satisfied.  Here  our  feelings 
of  reverent  devotion  ask  for  nothing  more.  There  is  no 
gaudy  church  with  its  tinsel  and  its  second-rate  paintings,  its 
mosaics  and  its  incense-scented  chapels  to  distract  our  minds 
and  weary  our  senses.  No  quarreling  bands  of  hostile 
Christians,  no  Moslem  guards  to  keep  the  peace  are  liere 
required,  no  gorgeously  bedecked  priests  to  distract  our 
thoughts  from  the  Man  of  Sorrows  whom  they  ignorantly 
worship,  and  whose  life  of  suffering  for  mankind  they,  with 
their  elaborate  ceremonials,  obscure  rather  than  illumine. 

Here  is  nothing  over  our  heads  but  the  blue  arch  of 
heaven,  a  few  fleecy  clouds  sailing  across  it.  Under  our  feet 
is  the  green  grass  of  springtime,  the  daisies  and  the  anem- 
ones, the  lilies  of  the  valley,  and  all  the  flowers  of  the  field 
"with  which  our  Lord  so  often  illustrated  His  discourses. 

To  be  sure,  on  this  very  hill  are  some  Mohammedan' 
tombs  which  at  first  seem  to  desecrate  our  Golgotha,  but,  as 
we  think  of  it,  we  remember  that  if  it  were  not  for  these 
tombs  this  hill  would  doubtless  have  been  covered  with 


THE  GARDEN  OF  CiETHSEMANE. 


473 


buildings  and  the  site  eiitirelv  lost  for  nuinv  lienemtions 
before  modern  sclioliirs  could  have  identified  it  as  the  sjjot 
■where  our  Saviour  sutfered  His  last  agony  ;  so  from  this  jmint 
of  view  we  may  consider  these  ^Moslem  tomljs  a  blessing  in 
disguise,  for  wlierever  a  Molianimedan  is  buried  his  country- 
men regard  it  a  sacred  ground  for  all  the  future  ages. 

But  sweet  as  are  tiie  associations  of  this  liallowed  hill  we 
cannot  always  linger  here,  Ijut  must  go  on  down  the  road 
which  leads  us  across  the  Valley  of  KeiU'on  and  then  up  the 
slopes  of  the  Mount  of  Olives. 

On  the  further  side  of  the  vallev  we  see  a  small  grove  of 
dark  and  gloomy  cypress  trees,  and,  near  by,  a  number  of 
gnarled  and  twisted  olive  trees.  Almost  by  intuition  we  say 
to  ourselves  this  nmst  be  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane ;  and 
so  it  is. 

This  is  one  of  the  sacred  places  about  Avhich  there  is  com- 
paratively little  dis{)ute.  To  be  sure,  the  claim  of  the  monk 
who  shows  us  the  garden,  that  these  great  olive  trees  with 
trunks  "  burst  from  age  and  shored  uj)  with  stones "  date 
from  the  time  of  Christ,  may  not  be  true,  and  it  is  possil)lo 
that  tlie  actual  garden  which  saw  the  bloody  sweat  of  our 
Lord,  and  witnessed  his  agonv  and  arrest  mav  not  have  been 
upon  this  very  spot ;  but,  undoubtedly,  it  was  near  to  this 
spot,  and  it  requires  no  stretch  of  imagination  to  believe  that 
the  checkered  moonlight  fell  through  the  branches  and 
leaves  of  these  very  olive  trees  on  the  night  when  the 
disciples  could  not  keep  open  their  sleepy  eyes  to  Avatch  with 
our  Lord  "  even  one  hour." 

"We  can  readily  believe  that  at  this  very  spot  which  is 
pointed  out  to  us,  marked  to-day  by  the  fragment  of  a  stone 
column,  the  treacherous  Judas  kissed  our  Lord,  and  received 
therefor  his  thirt}'^  pitiful  pieces  of  silver. 

A  sharp  climb  of  fifteen  minutes  brings  us  to  the  top  of 


474  A  SCENE  OF  SURPASSING  BEAUTY. 

the  Mount  of  Olives  from  the  garden  of  Gethseniane.  "When 
about  half  way  up  the  hill  we  turn  around  and  the  magnifi- 
cent view  bursts  upon  our  eyes.  Tlu'i't^  is  the  Holy  City  en- 
closed by  its  four-square  walls.  There  is  Jerusalem,  "the 
jo}"^  of  the  whole  earth."  It  is  builded  "as  a  city  which  is 
compact  together."  Its  squalidness  and  wretchedness  are  no 
longer  visible.  The  filth  of  its  narrow  streets  is  forgotten. 
Its  walls  from  this  distance  look  indeed  like  the  ramparts  of 
Zion.  Its  churches  and  moscjues  dominate  it  with  a  lordly 
air,  and  even  its  stone  houses,  which  look  so  mean  and 
squalid  on  near  approach,  have  from  this  point  almost  the 
look  of  palaces  as  the  afternoon  sun  and  the  clear  air  of 
Pales  Line  lend  their  enchantment  to  them. 

It  is  indeed  a  scene  of  surpassing  beaut}",  and  here,  accord- 
ing to  one  of  the  best  authenticated  traditions,  our  Lord 
stood  when  he  looked  with  love  and  pity  upon  the  sacred 
city,  while  the  hot  tears  fell  upon  his  cheeks,  as  he  cried  out, 
"If  thou  hadst  known,  even  thou,  at  least  in  this  thy  day, 
the  things  which  belong  unto  thy  j)eace ! "  Then  his  emotion 
overcame  him.  He  could  not  continue  the  sentence,  but,  with 
choking  voice,  he  added,  after  a  momentary  pause,  as  he 
thought  of  the  awful  destruction  which  awaited  the  beautiful 
city,  "  But  now  are  they  hid  from  thine  eyes. 

"  For  the  day  shall  come  upon  thee,  that  thine  enemies 
shall  cast  a  trench  about  thee,  and  compass  thee  round,  and 
keep  thee  in  on  every  side. 

"  And  shall  lay  thee  even  with  the  ground,  and  thy 
children  within  thee;  ard  they  shall  not  leave  in  thee  one 
stone  upon  another;  beci;use  thou  knewest  not  the  time  of 
thy  visitation." 

But  now  Ave  will  turn  our  eyes  upward  and  climb  the 
Mount  of  Olives  once  more.  In  a  few  moments  we  find  our- 
selves upon  its  very  summit. 


UPON  THE  MOUNT   OF  OLIVES. 


475 


thy 

lone 
le  of 

the 
lour- 


The  highest  point  of  the  hill  is  2,723  feet  above  the  sea 
level,  so  that  by  ordinary  geograpiiical  measurements  it  is 
no  slight  elevation,  but  deserves  the  name  of  mountain. 
When  compared  with  the  neighboring  city  of  Jerusalem, 
however,  it  is  not  a  lofty  hill,  for  it  rises  but  190  feet  higher 
tlian  the  temple  plateau  which  we  recently  visited,  and 
where  now  is  found  the  mosque  of  Omar. 

For  many  centuries  the  Mount  of  Olives  has  been  con- 
sidered the  spot  from  which  Christ  ascended  into  Heaven, 
but  Luke  seems  to  contradict  this  idea,  for  he  tells  us  that 
He  led  them  out  "as  far  as  Bethany  and  lifted  up  His  hands 
and  blessed  them.  And  it  came  to  pass  while  He  blessed 
them  that  He  was  parted  from  them  and  carried  up  into 
Heaven."  Now  Bethany  is  a  good  half  mile  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Mount  of  Olives.  However,  if  this  is  not  the 
place  of  the  ascension  of  Christ,  the  Mount  of  Olives  has 
sufficient  historical  and  sacred  attractions  to  satisfy  the  most 
exacting,  and  the  view  from  the  top  is  one  of  the  most 
magnificent  and  attention-compelling  which  can  be  found  in 
any  part  of  the  world. 

The  Russians  have  built  a  high  tower  on  the  very  crest 
of  the  hill  whose  top  is  reached  by  a  narrow,  winding  stair- 
case. It  is  a  hard  climb  which  takes  us  to  the  top  of  this 
bell  tower,  but  it  well  repays  us  for  our  trouble.  Surely 
from  no  spot  in  the  world  can  be  seen  so  much  of  lasting 
and  touching  interest  to  all  mankind. 

Hour  after  hour  can  we  spend  on  the  top  of  this  tower 
and  still  find  food  for  our  imaginations,  stimulus  for  our 
highest  religious  aspirations,  and  memory  photographs 
which  never  fade,  of  sacred  historical  sights  such  as  no  other 
view  in  the  world  can  give.  To  the  west  is  the  view  of  the 
Holy  City  which  we  have  already  seen  at  the  point  where 
Christ  our  Lord  wept  over  it,  only  it  is  more  magnificent 


47G 


JORDAN   AND   THE   DEAD  SEA. 


still  from  this  liigli  perch  wiiich  we  have  iittaiiiod.  Beyond 
stretciies  the  land  of  .hiduh  and  the  land  of  I'enjaniiii,  run- 
ning into  the  country  of  the  riiilistines,  which  borders  the 
seacoast  towards  Jalfa. 

To  the  east  is  an  entirely  dilferent  scene,  but  one  scarcely 
less  striking-,  Deadness  and  sterility,  a  treeless  and  aj)i)ar- 
entlv  uninhabited  waste  "reets  the  eve.  These  are  the  hills 
of  Moab  m  the  far  distance,  and  there,  just  this  side  of  these 
mountains,  a  silver  ribbon  which  glances  and  glitters  in  the 
sunlight,  shows  us  where  the  rij)|)ling  waters  of  tiie  Jordan 
are  making  their  way  to  the  Dead  Sea,  which  looks  in  the 
afternoon  sunlight  like  a  huge  mirror  lying  at  the  base  of 
the  frowning  mountains  of  !Moab. 

It  is  imi)ossible  to  believe  that  we  cannot  reach  this  sea 
of  glass  by  a  Avalk  of  an  hour,  or  at  the  most  of  two  hours, 
across  tlie  hills  and  valleys  that  lie  between  us  and  it,  and 
when  we  are  told  that  it  is  a  hard  horseback  ride  <jf  full 
seven  hours  over  barren  and  uninhabitable  hills,  and  that 
that  strip  of  looking-glass  is  almost  four  thousand  feet  below 
our  present  altitude,  we  are  still  more  surprised,  but  we 
are  obliged  to  take  the  word  of  geographers,  surveyors,  ami 
travelers  who  have  actuallv  made  the  distance,  rather  than 
our  own  unauthenticated  im])ressions.  That  little  lake, 
gleaming  in  the  sunlight,  is  none  other  than  the  Dead  Sea, 
one  of  the  most  extraordinary  bodies  of  water  in  all  the 
earth.  It  has  no  outlet,  as  is  well  known,  but  the  lake  is 
kept  at  its  present  level  by  the  evaporation  of  the  sun, 
which  day  after  day  sucks  up  thousands  of  tons  of  water 
from  this  intensely  hot  hole  in  the  surface  of  the  earth. 

The  dimensions  of  the  sea  and  its  volume  of  Avater  are 
constantly  growing  snudler  and  its  density  is  growing 
greater.  No  fish  can  swim  in  its  brin\'^  waves,  but  few  birds 
flit  along   its  barren  shores,  and  the  traveler  who  t;dves  a 


"WHERE   SHEPHERDS   WATCHED   THEIR   FLOCKS."      477 


tluit 
)el()\v 
we 
and 
than 
lake, 
Sea, 
II  the 


:er  are 
'owin^r 
V  birds 
akes  a 


mornin*?  bath  in  its  heavy  waters  lintls  tliat  he  cannot  sink, 
and  that  when  ho  comes  out  he  is  covered  by  a  saline  in- 
crustation, which  makes  him  think  that  he  may  possibly  be  a 
relative  of  Lot's  unfortunate  wife. 

Off  to  the  north 
we  can  catch  a 
glimpse  of  Ik'thle- 
hem  and  the  plains 
where  the  shep- 
herds kept  their 
flocks  l)y  nig-ht,  and 
whe"e  they  heard 
out  of  the  blue 
heavens  the  yloi'ia 
in  excehis. 

Just  at  the  foot 
of  the  hill,  but  out 
of  sight  because  it 
is  so  near,  is  the 
little  town  of  Beth- 
any, which  we  re- 
mem  ber  as  the 
place  that  of  all 
others  Christ  loved 
the  best. 

On    the    other 

side    of    the     hill 

toward  Jerusalem, 

also  hidden  by  its 

very  nearness,  is  the  Olive  Garden  of  Gethsemane  which 

we  have  just  visited,  and  the  reputed  tomb  of  Absalom,  at 

which  every  devout  Jew  throws  a  stone  as  an  indication  of 

his  detestation  of  filial  impietv.     It  is  said  that  this  tomb  is 
S9 


ABSALOM  S  TOMB. 


I 


478 


THE  VALLEY   OF  JEHOSHAPHAT. 


the  same  one  spoken  of  in  Second  Samuel:  "IS^ow  Absalom 
in  his  lifetime  had  taken  and  reared  up  for  himself  a  pillar 
"which  is  in  the  king-'s  dale,  for  he  said,  I  have  no  son  to  keep 
my  name  in  remembrance,  and  he  called  the  pillar  after  his 
own  name,  and  it  is  called  unto  this  day  Absalom's  place." 

If  this  is  indeed  the  tomb  which  Absalom  Imilt  it  has 
served  its  purpose  better  than  he  perhaps  intended,  for  while 
it  has  preserved  his  name  it  has  at  the  same  time  preserved 
it  as  the  name  of  an  ungrateful,  heartless,  reprobate  son,  the 
scorn  and  derision  of  every  one  who  passes  by,  and  none  can 
express  their  contempt  in  any  way  more  striking  than  by 
flinging  a  derisive  stone  at  the  pillar  which  its  builder  fondly 
thought  would  keep  his  name  in  grateful  remembrance. 

Here  near  by,  also,  is  the  tomb  of  Jehoshaphat  and  St. 
James,  and  all  the  monuments  and  memories  which  crowd 
so  full  the  Valley  of  Jehoshaphat.  Not  far  away  is  the  hill 
of  Herod,  as  it  is  called,  and,  underneath,  the  cave  of  Adul- 
1am,  where  three  thousand  years  ago  David  collected  "every 
one  that  was  in  distress,  and  every  one  that  was  in  debt,  and 
every  one  that  was  discontented,  and  became  a  captain  over 
them,"  and  formed  them  into  the  nucleus  of  what  was  after- 
wards his  conquering  and  irresistible  army. 

As  we  look  far  off  towards  the  south  we  see  the  hilltop 
Mizpeh  where  Samuel  judged  the  Children  of  Israel,  and 
where  he  won  such  a  signal  victory  over  the  Philistines,  for 
here  we  are  told,  "  And  as  Samuel  Avas  offering  up  the  burnt 
offering,  the  Philistines  drew  near  to  battle  against  Israel : 
but  the  Lord  thundered  with  a  great  thunder  on  that  day 
upon  the  Philistines,  and  discomfited  them;  and  they  were 
smitten  before  Israel. 

"  Then  Samuel  took  a  stone,  and  set  it  between  Mizpeh 
and  Shen,  and  called  the  name  of  it  Eben-ezer,  saying, 
Hitherto  hath  the  Lord  helped  us. 


SACRED  MEMORIES. 


470 


"And  Samuel  judged  Israel  all  the  years  of  his  life. 

"And  he  went  from  year  to  year  in  circuit  to  Bethel, 
and  Gilgal,  and  Mizpeh,  and  judged  Israel  in  all  those 
places." 

Thus  our  eyes  are  surfeited  with  wondrous  sights  and 
our  memories  are  wearied  to  recall  everything  that  has  made 
these  places  memorable. 

But  before  we  descend  from  the  tower,  our  eyes  sweep 
around  once  more  to  the  narrow  Jordan  and  the  glittering 
Dead  Sea,  and  rest  upon  the  bleak  mountains  of  Moab. 
Among  them  is  one  hilltop  of  surpassing  interest.  There  on 
Mount  Nebo,  four  thousand  feet  above  the  Dead  Sea  which 
lies  at  its  base,  the  great  lawgiver  of  Israel  looked  upon 
the  Promised  Land  whicli  he  was  never  to  enter. 

Going  down  the  sacred  hill  toward  the  east,  crossing  a 
gentle  spur,  and  following  a  winding  path  across  flowery 
fields,  Ave  come  at  last  to  a  village  which  perhaps  centers 
within  itself  more  touching  sacred  memories  than  any  other 
spot  in  all  the  region,  for  in  this  village  was  the  home  of 
Mary  and  Martha,  whose  door  was  so  often  left  ajar  for 
Christ  to  enter. 

Here  was  the  house  of  Simon  the  Leper  where  IMary 
washed  the  blessed  feet  that  continually  went  about  doing 
good,  and  wiped  them  with  the  hairs  of  her  head.  Here, 
too,  Lazarus  lived,  and  in  this  little  hamlet  the  greatest 
miracle  of  the  ages  was  wrought  when  Lazarus  heard  the 
Divine  voice  saving  to  him  in  the  tomb,  "Come  forth." 

But  alas,  the  passing  centuries  have  taken  all  the  poetry 
and  romance  out  of  this  little  hamlet.  The  natural  in- 
dolence of  the  inhabitants,  their  hopeless  lives,  for  many 
generations  ground  down  under  the  heel  of  the  Turks,  and 
their  unenterprising,  fanatical  disposition,  have  all  contrib- 
uted to  make  this  at  the  present  day  as  squalid,  mean,  and 


480 


AN  OVER-SUPPLY  OF  GUIDES. 


uninteresting  a  town  as  can  be  found  in  any  one  of  the  five 
continents  wliicli  we  are  visiting  together. 

As  Ave  neared  the  village  we  passetl  a  group  of  ragged, 
filtln',  sore-eyed  specimens  of  humanity,  s(puitting  on  the 
ground  near  an  old,  dilapidated  tent,  where  they  had  been 
lazilv  baskin*!;  in  the  sunshine.  Thev  were  eni>'a<?ed  in  the 
interesting  task  of  simultaneously  extending  their  dirty 
hands  into  the  one  and  only  dish  that  contained  their  food. 
They  stretched  out  their  gaunt,  diseased  hands  to  us,  crying 
'•  backsheesh,'"  the  only  Avord,  apparently,  which  they  knew 
and  Avhicli  stood  for  the  onlv  thing;  thev  cared  for. 

What  is  Mary  or  Martha,  Lazarus  or  Simon  to  them, 
except  so  many  pretexts  for  extorting  more  backsheesii  from 
the  traveler  who  comes  their  way  i  "What  is  Christ  himself, 
except  a  personage  Avhose  Avondrous  attractiveness  turns 
the  feet  of  many  a  pilgrim  BethanyAvard,  and  giA^es  these 
petty  robbers  a  chance  to  practice  their  arts  upon  a  fresh 
set  of  travelers  every  day  ? 

HoAvever,  they  knoAv  the  stock  places  of  interest  in  their 
A'^illage  by  heart,  and,  starting  up  from  all  sides,  they  run  on 
before  the  ])ilgrims  crying  out,  "•  Tliees  Avay,  thees  Avay  to  de 
house  of  Mary  and  Marrta,"  rolling  their  r's  Avith  great 
A'igor,  and  vociferating  and  gesticulating  as  only  Orientals 
can,  lest  some  one  else  should  capture  their  travelers  and 
show  them  the  way. 

''  Dis  way  to  de  tomb  of  Lazaroos,  dis  Avay  to  de  tomb  of 
Lazaroos,"  cries  a  shrill  treble  voice  in  our  ear,  as  a  little 
damsel  not  more  than  eight  or  nine  years  old  came  skipping 
over  the  rough  stones,  eagerly  pressing  upon  us  the  fact  that 
she  Avill  be  our  ffuide  to  the  tomb  of  Marv's  brother. 

All  that  Ave  have  to  do  is  to  follow  the  crowd,  for  all 
Bethany  seems  ready  to  act  as  our  guide  this  morning,  and 
every  one  knows  as  well  as  Ave  Avhere  we  wish  to  go. 


trreat 


jmb  of 
little 

dipping 
ct  that 


t 


THE  HOUSE  OF  MARY   AND  MARTHA. 


483 


.  So  followino;  our  many  cicerones  we  soon  come  to  a 
dilapidated  ruin  into  which  we  are  a(hnitted  by  a  small 
wooden  gate.  This,  we  are  assured  by  a  chorus  of  voices,  is 
none  other  than  the  liouse  of  Mary  and  Martha.  We  are 
not  prepared  to  dispute  the  fact,  for  it  is  as  likely  a  place  for 
the  residence  of  the  famous  sisters  as  any  in  the  village.  It 
is  perhaps  a  shade  more  clean  and  respectaljle  than  any 
other  ruin  in  the  vicinity,  but 
we  are  very  conlident  that  in 
the  days  of  old,  Martha  left  no 
such  piles  of  rubbish  and  gar- 
bage at  her  front  door  as  now 
decorate  it;  that  she  kept  the 
dead  cats  and  live  donkeys  off 
her  premises,  and  that  the  blear- 
eyed  children  who  now  clamber 
all  over  her  dining-room  and 
parlor  walls  would  have  been 
obliged  to  wash  their  faces  and 
comb  their  hair  before  she  ad- 
mitted them  Avithin  her  doors 
in  the  days  of  old. 

The  tomb  of  Lazarus  is 
equally  disappointing  and  per- 
haps no  more  authentic.  The 
narrow  entrance  shows  us  a  long  flight  of  stairs  which 
leads  us  down  into  the  very  bowels  of  the  earth,  and,  here, 
by  the  aid  of  a  smoky,  flaring  taper  and  a  vigorous  imagina- 
tion Ave  are  supposed  to  see  the  place  where  for  four  days  the 
body  of  Lazarus  lay  before  the  Redeemer's  voice  put  life  and 
vigor  into  the  decaying  limbs. 

Bethany  is  decidedly  disappointing  from  every  point  of 
vieWj  and  does  not  invite  us  to  linger  long  Avithin  its  wretched 


A   BEDOUIX   WOMAN. 


484 


A  DISCOURAGED  PROPHET. 


I 

H 

III    ' 


V 


streets.  Since  Ave  stay  here  so  short  a  time,  we  can  on  this 
same  day  visit  Bethlehem,  wliich  lies  on  the  other  side  of 
Jerusalem,  about  an  hour  and  a  half  by  carriage  from  the 
gates  of  the  city. 

The  road  from  Jerusalem  lies  over  rocky  hills  Avliich  are 
spotted  here  and  there  with  little  patches  of  soil,  laboriously 
enclosed  by  rocks,  where  some  scanty  crops  are  raised  by 
the  primitive  agricultural  methods  of  the  day.     Half-way 


HACIIEL  8  TOMB. 


out  to  Bethlehem,  we  see  the  place  where  it  is  supposed 
Elijah  lay  down  under  the  juniper  tree  and  asked  to  die.  He 
must  have  lain  down  with  considerable  force,  one  would 
think,  for  he  has  left  a  hole  in  the  solid  rock  about  the  size 
of  a  man's  body,  which  is  pointed  out  as  the  very  spot  where 
he  threw  himself  down  in  his  unrighteous  despair. 

A  little  further  on  we  come  to  the  tomb  of  Rachel,  w^hich 
is  better  authenticated  than  most  historic  sites  in  the  vicinity. 
It  is  a  place  greatly  reverenced,  especially  by  the  Jew^. 
Fortunately,  the  custodian  of  the  tomb  was  there  w^hen  we 


BETHLEHEM  OF  SONG  AND  STORY. 


485 


■went  by,  and  we  enjoyed  tlie  privilege  whicli  many  travelers 
do  not  have,  of  entering  the  torn!)  and  seeing  the  great  rocR 
sepulchre  in  which  it  is  not  altogether  improbable  that  the 
beloved  wife  of  Jacob  is  still  resting. 

"  And  Rachel  died,''  says  the  sacred  narrative,  *'  and  was 
buried  in  the  way  to  Ephrath,  which  is  liethlehem.  And 
Jacob  set  a  ]>illar  upon  her  grave ;  that  is  the  pillar  of 
Ilachel's  grave  unto  this  day." 

Not  many  minutes  beyond  this  historic  toml)  we  see  a 
long,  straggling  Eastern  village,  and  our  pulses  beat  a  little 
quicker  as  we  remember  that  this  is  none  other  than  Bethle- 
hem, Bethlehem  of  prophecy  and  of  history,  Bethlehem  of 
song  and  story,  Bethlehem  Ej)hrata,  of  which  it  Avas  said 
seven  hundred  years  before  our  Lord  Avas  born,  "  Though 
thou  be  little  among  the  thousands  of  Judah,  yet  out  of  thee 
shall  He  come  forth  unto  me  that  is  to  be  ruler  in  Israel, 
whose  goings  forth  have  been  from  of  old,  from  everlasting." 

The  town  now  contains  about  five  thousand  inhabitants, 
most  of  them  Christians,  but  among  them  only  fifty  Protes- 
tant Christians.  Here,  the  Latins  and  Greeks  and  Armeni- 
ans all  possess  huge  monasteries,  and  the  inhabitants  live  by 
raising  cattle,  by  making  images  of  saints  and  fancy  articles 
in  olive  Avood,  mother-of-pearl,  and  coral.  The  one  supremely 
interesting  spot  in  this  little  town  is  coA'ered  by  the  Church 
of  Saint  Mary,  Avhicli  is  erected  over  the  traditional  birth- 
place of  Christ. 

Our  carriage  rattles  doAvn  through  the  principal  street, 
OA'er  the  horribly  rough  ])avements  Avhich  sometimes  give  out 
altogether,  and  are  only  replaced  by  holes  and  hummocks 
Avhich  threaten  to  break  every  spring  in  the  wagon.  But 
the  driver  paid  no  attention  to  such  little  obstacles.  He 
wants  to  show  off  to  the  best  advantage,  and  cracking  his 
whip  and  urging  on  his  horses,  he  files  through  the  narrow 


" 


48G 


THE   PLACE   OF   THE   NATIVITY. 


streets,  while  the  inhiibitunts  fl.'ttten  themselves  against  the 
■walls  to  escape  his  tlireatenin*^-  wheels.  Finally,  he  brings 
U})  with  a  great  Hourisli  in  front  of  the  aforesaid  Cliurch  of 
Saint  Marv,  or,  of  ''  The  Nativitv,"  as  it  is  usuallv  called. 

Of  course  the  exact  sites  which  are  liere  ])ointed  out  are, 
in  all  ]>rol)ability,  spurious.  Some  of  them  are  manifest 
absurdities,  and  yet,  very  near  to  this  spot,  and  (juite  i)roba- 

bly  within  the  space  that  is 
covered  by  the  roof  of  this 
church,  the  Redeemer  of  Man- 
kind was  born.  Here  we  can 
afford  to  give  our  imagina- 
tions full  play  and  need  not 
try  to  curb  our  religious  emo- 
tions. 

After  passing  through  a 
church  which  is  grandly  sim- 
ple in  its  design,  we  come  to 
the  Chapel  of  the  Kativity 
St  itself.  The  pavement  is  of 
mar])le  and  the  walls  also  are 
lined  with  marble,  while  under 
the  altar  a  silver  star  marks 
the  place  of  Jesus'  birth.  The 
inscription  tells  us :  "  llic  de 
Yivquxe  Maria  Jesus  Christus  natus  est.'''' 

For  centuries  and  centuries,  devout  hearts  have  traveled 
hither  to  worship  at  the  cradle  of  our  Lord,  and  from  the 
time  of  Constantino  this  spot  has  been  richly  decorated, 
and  golden  lamps  with  their  undying  flame  are  constantly 
swinging  over  the  silver  star. 

Near  by  is  the  Chapel  of  the  Manger,  where  the  marble 
cradle  of  Christ  is  pointed  out  to  us.      It  does  not  meet  our 


A  GIRL   OF  JCDEA. 


GUARDING  THE  CRADLE  OF  OUR  LORD. 


487 


ideas,  liowevor,  of  the  rou<^li  stall  from  which  the  horses  fed, 
and  which  Protestant  Christians  always  associate  witii  tiie 
birtii  of  the  Iledeemer. 

"While  we  were  lookin'j'  at  these  relics,  twentv-one  Fran- 
ciscan  monks  came  into  the  chapel,  carrying  huge  candles 
and  chanting  the  praises  of  the  Virgin  ^Marv.  Behind  them 
followed  a  priest  arrayed  in  most  gorgeous  vestments,  and 
followed  by  two  attendants.  As  the  priest  ap[)roached  the 
place  of  the  Nativity,  he  took  a  golden  censer  in  his  hand, 
and  then  from  a  silver  vase  he  took  some  powdered  incense 
and  with  a  golden  spoon  sprinkled  it  on  the  living  coals. 

The  fragrant  smoke  curled  up  to  heaven,  while  the  monks 
chanted,  and  the  priests  with  rhythmical  motion  swung  the 
golden  censer,  and  the  thirty-one  lamps  of  gold  and  silver 
shed  their  subdued  light  upon  the  scene.  But  even  while  we 
looked  we  could  see  the  o-rim  figure  of  a  Turkish  soldier  sta- 
tioned  beside  the  marble  cradle  itself  to  keep  the  i)eace 
between  the  warring  Christian  factions. 

How  much  of  the  beauty  and  harmony  of  the  scene  was 
dissipated  by  this  soldier's  suggestive  attitude  !  How  much 
it  told  of  warfare  and  bitterness  where  all  should  be  peace 
and  harmony  !  How  much  it  suggested  even  of  jealous  and 
envious  sects  who  cannot  even  clasp  hands  across  the  cradle 
of  our  Lord ! 

"We  were  fflad  before  lonff  to  leave  the  Church  of  the 
Nativity,  and,  as  we  rode  home,  we  found  more  joy  and  sat- 
isfaction in  the  sight  of  the  peaceful  plains  where  the  shep- 
herds watched  their  flocks  by  night,  where  Boaz  left  the 
"  handfuls  of  purpose,"  and  Avhere  David  kept  his  flocks,  de- 
livering them  with  the  help  of  God  out  of  the  paw  of  the 
lion  and  out  of  the  paw  of  the  bear,  than  in  the  gaudy 
and  tinsel-decked  church  over  which  quarrelsome  Christians 
have  s])ent  so  much  blood  and  treasure. 


fi 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 


I 


WITHIN  AND  AROUND  "THE  DOME  OF  THE  ROCK." 

The  Mos(iu(;  of  Omar  —  A  Rock  of  W  >.  lerful  Traditions  —  Abraham's 
Sacrifice  —  Our  Hctimie  —  Mohammed's  Rroomstick  Hide  —  Tlie  Wily 
Jew  and  the  Pil^nim  —  The  AVise  Judp"  —  The  Marvelous  Iron  Chain 
of  Justice  —  A  Wilj'  Jew  —  Our  Slipjitio  and  How  We  Kept  Them  On 
—  Our  "Humbug"  Siicik  — Tlie  Great  Rock  — The  Stone  of  Nails- 
How  the  Devil  Drew  Them  Out — An  Easy  Way  of  Buying  Heaven  — 
A  Rock  Which  Rests  tm  Nothing  — How  Gabriel  Held  It  Down  — The 
Way  to  Paradise  —  What  the  Pilgrim  Found  in  the  Well  —  Hairs  from 
the  Beard  of  Mohammed — The  STuiuii;.;  of  Solomon  —  The  Place  of 
Final  Judgment  —  Startling  and  Curious  Traditions  —  The  Wailing 
Place  —  Real  Grief  —  A  Sipialid  Scene  —  The  Old  Pharisee  and  His 
Lovelocks  —  A  Sad  Litany — A  More  Joyful  Keynote  —  A  Marvelous 
Race. 


^ERIIAPS  the  mosque  of  Omar 
combines  more  of  uutlientic  his- 
toric interest  than  any  other  one 
place  in  the  world.  The  Church 
of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  to  be 
sure,  would  be  more  interesting 
to  the  Christian  heart  than  the 
site  of  the  Temple  of  Solomon,  if 
we  could  put  full  and  implicit 
trust  in  the  rather  shady  tra- 
ditions w^hich  give  it  its  fame. 
But  around  the  holv  rock 
over  which  the  mosque  of  Omar  is  built  few  doubts  linger. 
"We  know  something  of  the  wonderful  temple  which  once 
overshadowed  it.    We  know  what  the  rock  itself  was  used 

for,  and  though  in  these  degenerate  days  the  place  has  fallen 

(  488  )      - 


THE  HOLY   ROCK. 


489 


into  impious  Moslem  hamls,  it  is  still  of  sui)reme  and  ))athetic 
interest  to  Jew  and  Christian,  Catiiolic  and  Protestant,  Ar- 
menian and  INfohammedan  alike. 

Even  unsentimental  Uaedeker  melts  a  little  when  he 
comes  to  the  Ilaram,  as  the  whole  ])lace  is  called,  and  says, 
with  a  suspicicm  of  symi)athy  in  his  professional  ^niide- 
book  phrase,  "  We  now  stand  on  one  of  the  most  profoundly 
interesting  spots  in  the  world.''  * 

In  Abraham's  day  the  stone  under  this  great  dome  was 
an  altar  of  sacrifice,  and  in  that  most  touching  of  Uiblical 
stories  we  reatl  that  God  said  to  Abraham,  "Take  now  thy 
son,  thine  only  son  Isaac,  whom  thou  lovest,  and  get  thee 
into  the  land  of  Moriah;  and  otfer  him  there  for  a  burnt 
offering  upon  one  of  the  mountains  wl.ich  I  will  tell  thee  of," 

This  was  tlie  mountain,  so  full  since  then  of  pathetic  but 
blessed  memories  to  Jew  and  Christian  alike,  that  God  told 
Abraham  of. 

This,  too,  was  undoubtedly  the  thiesliing  floor  of 
Araunah,  the  Jebusite,  Avliich  David  bought  for  fifty  shekels 
of  silver,  and  where  he  built  an  altar  unto  the  Lord  and 
offered  burnt  offerings  and  peace  offerings  because  of  the 
])lague  which  was  devastating  Israel.  Here,  tem})le  after 
temple  was  erected ;  here  David  collected  the  vast  treasures 
for  the  magnificent  house  of  worship  which  he  was  not  per- 
mitted on  account  of  his  blood-stained  hands  to  build ;  here, 
Solomon,  the  most  exalted  monarch  of  his  day,  built  the 
grandest  temple  of  the  ages ;  here  Nehemiah  and  his  faithful 
compatriots  on  their  return  from  exile  built  a  less  splendid 
house  for  God's  worship ;  and  here  Ilerod^  just  before  the 
birth  of  Christ,  erected  a  stately  edifice  Avbose  stones  were 
being  laid  and  whose  beams  were  springing  into  their  places 
even  while  our  Lord  walked  the  streets  of  Jerusalem.  He 
must  have  watched  the  growth  of  the  third  temple. 


I 


4'JO 


AN    IMPOSING    PROCESSION, 


i 


For  iiiiinv  ('cnturies,  as  all  know,  Jcrusalciii  lias  l)oon  in 
the  hands  ol'  Moliamnicihins,  and  tlie  t('mj)l('  pivcincts  havo 
heen  thcii'  especial  treasure,  Tntil  within  a  lew  yeai's  the 
"inlidel  (loaf's,"  as  they  politely  (lesi;:^nate  all  (Christians, 
wei'e  not  allowed  to  set  foot  within  the  enclosure,  hut  the 
wajiin<,^  power  of  the  Sultan  could  not  resist  the  increasin<,^ 
tleniands  of  Christian  nations,  and  since  the  Crimean  war, 
travelers  have  heen  admitted  to  the  llaram. 

Even  now  there  are  some  impeding-  formalities  to  he  gone 
through  with  hefore  we  can  visit  the  sacred  mostpie.  AVe 
api)lied  to  our  United  States  Consul  for  a  permit,  and  for  his 
kavass,  who  on  the  payment  of  five  francs  from  each  mem- 
ber of  the  ])arty  accompanies  us,  to  see  that  no  harm  befalls 
us  from  infuriated  Moslems  wlio  still  have  to  be  held  in 
check  when  their  sacred  })laces  are  invaded  even  Ijy  the 
peaceful  tourist.  AVe  also  were  obliged  to  take  a  soldier  to 
defend  us  in  case  of  attack,  who  exjiects  a  fee  of  three  or 
four  francs,  a  small  boy  to  carry  our  slippers  Avhich  must  be 
donned  before  Ave  enter  the  sacred  ])recincts,  while  in  ad- 
dition to  this  array  of  followers,  is  our  guide  or  dragoman, 
who  explains  the  significance  of  the  sacred  sights. 

It  was  quite  an  imposing  procession  Avhicli  set  off  one 
bright  March  morning  from  the  liotel  just  within  the  gates 
of  the  city  for  the  mosque  of  Omar.  Leading  the  way  Avas 
the  gorgeous  kavass,  arrayed  in  all  his  Oriental  finery,  car- 
rying off  his  gaudy  plumes  with  the  utmost  indifference  and 
dignity.  Then  came  the  soldier  guard,  scarcely  less  wonder- 
fully arrayed,  whose  Winchester  rifle,  long  sword,  short 
dirk,  and  brace  of  bull-dog  pistols,  Avere  supposed  to  strike 
terror  to  the  heart  of  every  pugnacious  Turk  Avho  might  dis- 
pute our  passage. 

Following  him  Avas  Abdallah,  our  dragoman.  Then 
came  our  modest  selves,  some  half-dozen  English  and  Amei'i- 


MEMORIES   OP  THE   OREAT   FALSE   PROPHET. 


■491 


US- 


cans.  Our  slipper  Ijoy  followed  after,  and,  as  liis  only 
function  was  to  put  on  our  shoes  when  we  removed  the 
slippers,  and  guard  the  shoes  while  wo  were  in  the  mosque, 
he  Wiis  not  obliged  to  appear  in  unil'orm. 

Through  the  narrow,  filthy  streets  we  walked,  passing  the 
Armenian  monastery  overshadowed  1)V  loftv  and  <jloomv 
cy]»resses,  past  the  Turkish  guard  who  unceasingly  stands  at 
the  gate  of  the  Ilaram  to  prevent  any  unaccredited  infidel 
foot  from  pressing  the  sacred  soil.     At  last  we  stootl  on  the 


THE    MOSQIE   OF   OMAK. 

very  rocks  made  sacred  by  the  feet  of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and 
Jacob ;  of  David  and  Samuel ;  of  Judges,  Prophets,  Apostles, 
and  Martyrs,  and  of  Jesus  Christ,  our  Saviour,  himself. 

One  soon  gets  the  impression,  however,  that  these  pre- 
cincts, in  the  minds  of  present  owners,  are  more  sacred  to 
the  memory  of  Mohammed  than  of  ary  one  else,  for  at  every 
step  Ave  are  reminded  of  the  great  false  prophet  by  some 
absurd  tradition. 

For  instance,  as  we  enter  the  grounds  a  spot  enclosed  by 
marble  pillars  is  shown  us  as  the  very  spot  from  which 
Mohammed  started  on  his  flying  horse  to  visit  Damascus 


I 


493 


THE  CHAIN   OF  JUDGMENT. 


and  Mecca,  Ji  journey  of  many  hundred  miles  which  occu})ied 
him  only  live  or  six  minutes.  He  had  e\i(lently  anticipated 
not  only  Darius  Green  and  his  ilyin«^  machine,  but  all  the 
ai'i'ial  inventions  and  electrical  contrivances  of  tiie  nineteenth 
century.  If  ho  had  only  left  to  his  devoted  followers  the 
secret  of  his  airy  journey,  how  many  would  have  called  him 
blessed !  The  Atlantic  would  now  have  no  terrors  for 
the  timid  hunlsman.  The  Mediterranean  might  wax  never 
so  wrathy  and  yet  it  would  not  keej)  us  at  home.  P^ven  the 
landing  at  Jatfa  would  have  no  fear  for  us,  and  traveling  in 
l*alestine,  wdiich  is  now  so  wearisome,  would  be  only  a  joyous 
flitting  from  sacred  spot  to  .sacred  spot. 

But,  alas!  Mohammed  did  not  reveal  the  secret  of  his 
flying  horse,  and  wc  must  still  walk  about  on  two  feet,  be 
they  never  so  weaiy. 

liefore  the  east  entrance  to  the  moscjue  of  Omar  is  an- 
other covered,  dome-shaped  pavilion  surrounded  by  mari)le 
pillars,  and  here  we  paused  long  enough  for  Abdallah  to  tell 
us  the  story  of  the  })hice.  With  his  snap{)ing,  black  Syrian 
eyes,  his  expressive  gestures  and  mobile  face,  he  could  make 
the  most  untrustworthy  and  improbal)le  tn»diti(msglow  with 
a  living  interest.  Suspended  from  the  roof  of  this  pavilion, 
says  Abdallah,  there  used  to  })c  a  chain  of  heavy  iron  links, 
under  which  all  accused  persons  must  stand.  If  the  chain 
fell  on  them  they  were  guilty  ;  if,  however,  the  chain  did  not 
fall,  but  remained  suspended,  they  were  innocent. 

On  one  occasion  there  came  to  this  place  of  judgment  a 
Mohammedan  and  a  Jew,  the  Jew  being  accused  by  the 
Moiiammedan  of  robbing  him  of  thegohl  which  he  had  com- 
mitted to  the  Jew  on  his  dejKirture  for  Mecca,  whither  he 
had  gone  on  a  pilgrimage,  for  it  is  not  permitted  a  pilgrim 
to  cany  with  iiim  more  money  thaa  is  sufficient  to  meet  the 
necessities  of  life. 


ABDALLAH  S   STORY. 


493 


"•Wlieii  I  c'iiiiie  buck  from  AFccca,"  said  the  j\Iussuhuaii 
lit  tlio  ti'ial,  ''tliis  (l()»i;  of  a  Jtnv  would  not  g-ive  mo  back  my 
propoi'ty,  but  swears  that  ho  uovor  received  it  fi'om  me." 

"Stand  under  the  chain,"  said  the  just  an<l  inflexible 
judge  to  the  Jew,  "and  if  you  liavo  your  neighbor's  money 
its  heavy  links  will  fall  on  you  and  crush  you  to  the  dust." 

"  Most  willingly,"  answered  the  Jew,  "for  I  assure  you  I 
have  not  a  penny  of  my  neighboi-'s  money."  Upon  this  ho 
liauded  the  judge  a  heavy  cane  that  he  cari'ied  in  his  hand 
and  briskly  stei)ped  under  the  avenging  chain. 

Sure  enough,  the  Jew  ai)peared  to  be  right,  the  chain 
ronuiined  stn^ng  and  firm,  not  even  by  a  wriggle  of  one  of 
its  links  did  it  show  its  desire  to  crush  the  accused. 

"  Ila,  ha,"  said  the  judge  to  the  Mohammedan,  "you 
have  borne  false  witness,  you  must  stand  uiuler  the  chain 
yourself  and  it  will  soon  show  which  is  the  i)erjured  man." 

Upon  this  the  Jew^  received  his  cane  back  again  and  the 
Mohammedan  step])ed  uiuler  the  chain,  and  still  it  did  lu^t 
fall,  neither  did  the  links  show  any  nu)tion,  or  desire  to 
avenge  a  wrong. 

"  There  must  be  some  mistake  about  this,"  pondered  the 
judge,  "the  chain  never  made  a  mistake  before.  Either  one 
or  the  other  of  these  men  must  be  guilty." 

Then  a  smUlen  light  gleamed  upon  the  mind  of  the 
sapient  disj)enser  of  justice,  and,  taking  the  cane  once  more 
out  of  the  hand  of  the  wily  Jew,  he  broke  it  across  his  kneo 
and  all  the  Mohammedan's  gold  rolled  out  from  its  hollow 
interior. 

Thus  the  secret  stood  revealed.  The  Jew  did  not  have 
a  penny  of  the  Moslem's  money  while  he  was  under  the 
chain,  for  it  was  all  in  the  judge's  hands,  and  the  chain  could 
not  fall  upon  him,  neither  could  it  crush  the  Mohammedan, 
for  ho  was  right  in  his  accusation,  and  thus  the  wisiloni  of 


494 


SLIPPERS  FOR   INFIDEL   FEET. 


If!'! 


m 


the  great  judge  was  re-established  and  the  reputation  of  the 
chain  was  preserved. 

It  was  on  this  s})ot,  too,  according  to  Abdallah,  that 
Solomon  discovered  the  true  mother  of  the  babe  when  he 
took  his  sword  and  was  about  to  cut  the  little  one  into  two 
})ieces,  and  discovered  by  the  heart-rending  s*^  bs  and  prayers 
of  one  woman  that  the  life  of  the  child  might  be  spared, 
which  the  true  mother  of  the  infant  was. 

Here  at  this  east  door,  near  which  the  pavilion  of  the 
chain  is  situated,  we  stopped  to  take  off  our  shoes,  A  most 
miscellaneous  assortment  of  slippers  was  brought  for  those 
who  had  no  slippers  with  them  by  one  of  the  attendants  of 
the  mosque.  These  slippers  were  in  all  degrees  and  stages 
of  dilapidation.  The  only  kind  that  we  did  not  find  among 
the  whole  lot  brought  us  to  choose  from,  were  those  that 
made  any  pretention  to  respectability.  Great  splay-footed 
sides  of  leather,  out  at  the  toes  and  heels,  were  presented  to 
us ;  ecpially  disreputable  pieces  of  carpeting  which  Avere 
once  slippers,  but  which  now  bear  scarcely  a  resemblance  to 
soles  and  uppers  were  laid  at  our  feet ;  while,  m  other  cases, 
pieces  of  bocking  with  a  string  run  through  the  hole  at  the 
top,  into  Avhich  the  feet  are  supposed  to  be  thrust,  did  duty 
as  foot  coverings,  and  prevented  our  infidel  feet  from  defil- 
ino;  the  sacred  sanctuarv  of  the  Moslems. 

The  only  thing  about  these  slippers  which  is  universal  is 
their  consjiicuous  roominess.  However,  by  careful  manage- 
ment, never  lifting  our  feet  from  the  ground,  and  shuffling  in 
the  most  awkward  way,  we  were  able  to  keep  them  on  our 
feet  and  to  follow  our  guide,  our  kavass,  and  our  soldier,  into 
the  mostjue.  The  crowd  of  attendants  was  here  increased  by 
the  old  sheik  of  the  mosque  himself,  and  by  several  of  his 
retainers  who  followed  us  about  in  order  that  they  might 
have  an  excuse  for  demanding  l)ackslieesh. 


le 


the 
uty 

m- 


uige- 


into 
dby 
f  his 
night 


COMPLIMENTING   THE   SHEIK. 


495 


Our  new  attendant,  the  sheik  of  the  mosque,  spoke  only 
Turkish.  Our  dragoman,  Abdalhih,  is  etjually  at  home  in 
Turkisli  and  English.  Turning  to  us  he  said,  with  the  ut- 
most solemnity,  ''  This  sheik  is  a  very  great  man,  I  assure 
you,  and  he  greatly  honors  us  with  his  })resence."  This 
complimentary  explanation  he  translated  into  Turkish,  and 
then  turning  to  us  once  more  said,  in  English  alone,  for  our 
own  private  delectation,  *'  And  he  is  one  great  big  humbug, 
too,  and  no  more  use  to  us  than  two  tails  to  a  cat." 

The  sheik  evidently  considered  this  another  compliment, 
but  f(jrtunately,  did  not  insist  upon  its  being  translated. 

The  mosque  of  Omar,  or  dome  of  the  rock,  as  its  Turkish 
name  may  be  translated  into  English,  is  an  octagonal  build- 
ino',  each  of  whose  sides  is  sixtv-six  feet  in  len<2:th.  The 
upper  part  is  covered  Avith  porcelain  tiles  of  a  subdued  blue. 
The  effect  is  considereil  bv  artists  t'j  be  remarkablv  fine. 

The  lower  part  of  the  building  is  covered  with  marble, 
and  passages  from  the  Koran,  written  in  interwoven  charac- 
ters, run  around  the  building  like  a  frieze. 

Within,  the  building  is  not  particulai'ly  remarkable,  ex- 
cept for  the  great  rock  in  the  center,  and  the  traditions 
which  cluster  around  this  rock,  which,  l>y  hundreds  of  mil- 
lions of  people,  is  regarded  as  the  central  point  of  the  world. 

Just  how  large  the  claim  on  your  reverence  may  be 
Avhich  this  rock  should  have,  it  is  difficult  to  tell,  but,  in  any 
event,  it  will  always  hold  its  preeminence  as  one  of  the  most 
sacred  spots  to  Jew  and  ^rohammedan  and  Christian  alike. 

Authentic  Jewish  tradition  tells  us  that  on  this  very  rock 
Abraham  offered  sacrifice.  Here  Isaac  lay,  bound  and  ready 
for  the  sacrificial  knife  which  his  father  held  in  his  hand 
when  the  arresting  voice  of  God  was  heard.  Some  scholars 
say  that  on  this  s})ot  the  Holy  of  Holies  of  the  ancient  tem])le 
stood,  while  still  others  declare  that  the  great  sacrificial  altar 

.30 


496 


A  SATANIC   LEGEND. 


stood  here,  and  have  discovered  on  the  rock  what  they  be- 
lieve to  be  traces  of  a  channel  for  canying  off  the  blood. 

Many  of  the  traditions  which  now  cluster  about  this  place 
are  undoubtedly  of  Mohammedan  origin,  and  are  of  little 
interest  to  Jew  or  Christian  except  as  curious  freaks  of  the 
imagination. 

But  we  will  follow  our  old  sheik  about,  as,  with  implicit 
faith  in  his  own  story,  he  tells  the  tale  to  us.  The  great 
rock  which  gives  its  name  to  the  mosque  is  enclosed  by  a 
screen  which  Avas  put  up  in  the  days  of  the  Crusaders,  but 
through  the  holes  in  the  screen  we  can  stick  our  fingers  and 
touch  the  sacred  stone  itself. 

Just  outside  the  screen,  on  the  east  side  of  the  mosque,  is 
a  stone  in  which  are  some  nail-holes,  while  two  or  three  nails 
seem  to  be  still  driven  into  the  stone  and  there  remain 
imbedded.  Here,  our  ancient  '"  humbug  "  of  a  sheik  pauses 
impressively  and  points  with  his  fat  fore-finger  to  these  nails, 
"  Do  you  see  this  stone  ? "  he  says,  while  his  Arabic  is  trans- 
lated into  English  by  Abdallah.  "  There  used  to  be  thirteen 
nails  in  this  stone,  and  the  devil  knows  very  well  that  Avhen 
all  the  nails  are  drawn  out  the  end  of  the  world  Avill  come. 
Of  course,  he  is  anxious  for  this  so  that  he  may  escaj)e  from 
torment  himself.  One  day  he  came  into  the  mosque  Avith 
his  ugly  forked  tail  and  dreadful  hoofs  and  began  to  pull  out 
the  nails.  He  had  pulled  out  ten  of  them  and  another  was 
half  out  Avhen  Gabriel  saAV  Avhat  he  Avas  about,  and  stopped 
him  in  the  midst  of  his  occupation.  You  can  see  that  Avliat 
I  am  telling  you  is  true,"  added  the  old  sheik,  "  for  there 
are  only  two  and  one-half  nails  left,  and  you  can  see  that 
the  devil  pulled  out  all  the  rest  before  he  Avas  stoi)ped." 

This  avaricious  old  sinner  Avdht  on  to  say,  "  If  anyone 
puts  some  backsheesh  doAvn  on  this  stone  he  is  sure  of  going 
to  heaven."     After  this  solemn  assurance,  we  thrcAV  down  a 


WHERE   PATRIARCHS   AND   PROPHETS   PRAYED. 


497 


ras 


3re 
liat 


me 
\\  a 


copper,  and  turning  to  the  old  Moslem,  asked  him  if  that 
would  assure  us  entrance  into  Paradise,  but  the  sheik  was 
too  shrewd  to  commit  himself.  "  You  may  possibly  squeeze 
in,"  he  said,  "but  if  you  would  only  give  two  francs,  it 
would  make  it  sure."  However,  we  declined  to  purchase 
bliss  at  any  such  price  as  this. 

This  whole  huge  rock  is  supposed  by  Mohammedans  to 
rest  on  nothing,  and  when  one  goes  down  into  a  kind  of 
crypt  or  cellar-way  underneath  the  rock,  and  shows  them  the 
substantial  stone  pillars  which  support  it,  they  claim  that 
underneath  the  crypi  it  is  entirely  hollow,  and  prove  it  by 
pounding  on  the  floor,  which  makes  a  hollow  rumbling  sound 
as  though  there  were  a  cavern  beneath  our  feet. 

In  this  subterranean  chamber  our  dragoman  points  out 
the  places  where  David,  Solomon,  Abraham,  and  Elijah  were 
in  the  habit  of  praying.  Here  Mohammed  used  to  pray 
also,  and,  being  a  tall  man,  when  he  rose  from  his  knees  he 
would  surely  have  bumped  his  head  against  the  ceiling,  but 
very  considerately  the  stone  rose  out  of  liis  way,  and  there 
is  a  hollow  over  our  heads  of  exactly  the  shape  of  Moham- 
med's turban. 

In  this  rock  is  also  a  round  hole  thi'ough  which,  the 
faithful  assure  us,  that  Mohammed  ascended  into  heaven. 
The  stone  could  not  bear  to  be  deprived  of  his  company,  and 
so  it  was  following  after  him  when  Gabriel  put  his  hand  on 
it  and  stopped  it  from  going  any  furthei*.  Uj)on  this,  the 
obedient  stone  settled  back  into  its  place,  and  blessed  the  re- 
straining hand. 

Our  credulity  is  somewhat  strained  by  this  legend,  but 
when  we  expressed  any  doubt,  our  old  guide  settled  the  mat- 
ter once  for  all  by  showing  us  a  Avhiti ',11  quartz  fragment  in 
the  heart  of  the  rock,  which  lie  declared  to  be  the  tongue  of 
the  stone  with  which  it  blessed  the  hand  of  Gabriel. 


I'lli 


498 


THE  WELL  OF  PARADISE. 


] 


I 


Si 


Moreover,  he  showed  us  a  depression  in  tlie  stone  itself, 
m)on  whicli  Gabriel's  hand  rested  when  it  ])revented  the  rock 
from  Hying  heavenward.  What  more  could  be  said  in  view 
of  such  incontrovertible  evidence  i 

Going  outside  of  the  mos(jue  again,  we  followed  our 
numerous  guides  to  another  building  which  is  scarcely  less 
sacred  than  the  dome  of  the  rock.  This  is  the  mos(|Uo  of 
El  Aksa,  a  long,  rectangular  building,  much  inferior  to  the 
octagonal  moscjue  that  covers  the  s.'icred  rock,  Ijut  yet,  hav- 
ing its  own  I'elics  of  suj)reme  interest  to  the  IMohammedan. 

Here  is  the  sacred  well  of  Paradise.  As  Ave  look  down 
into  its  cavernous  depths,  we  can  see  nothing  but  a  great 
black  hole  in  the  floor.  We  are  assured,  however,  that  this 
is  none  other  than  the  way  to  Paradise  itself,  for  (m  one 
occasion,  a  jnlgrim  who  was  here  drawing  water,  lost  his 
bucket,  and  going  down  to  get  it,  he  saw^  twf)  angels  at  the 
bott(mi  of  the  well,  who  told  him  that  this  was  the  way  to 
Paradise,  and  who  at  the  same  time,  gave  him  two  leaves 
from  the  Tree  of  Life.  These  he  stuck  behind  his  ear,  and 
then  came  up  to  the  surface  once  more,  to  prove  by  these 
incontrovertible  signs  that  what  he  said  was  true ;  and  from 
that  day  to  this,  that  precious  romancer  has  been  believed. 
Evidently,  it  is  not  alwaj's  certain  that  truth  lies  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  Avell. 

In  another  ]iart  of  this  same  nujsque  are  two  ]iillars 
through  which  a  tolerably  stout  man  can  barely  scpiccze 
himself.  The  story  connected  with  these  pillars  is  that  any 
one  who  can  crowd  throuii-h  between  them  is  sure  at  last  of 
crowding  into  Heaven.  Alas  for  the  fat  man!  There  is  no 
more  chance  for  him  to  enter  Paradise  through  this  gate 
than  for  a  camel  to  crawl  though  the  eye  of  a  needle. 

However,  neither  the  stout  man  nor  the  lean  man  nor 
the  muldle-sized  man  could  be  deterred  on  anv  consideration 


THE   STABLES   OF   SOLOMON. 


499 


from  trying  to  crowd  his  Wtay  between  the  pillars,  until  cat 
hist,  so  scandalous  became  the  cron'ding  and  [)ushing  of 
those  who  tried  to  get  into  Paradise  in  tiiis  cheap  and  easy 
way,  that  the  Governor  of  Jerusalem  Avas  obliged  to  till  up 
the  space  with  an  iron  frame  whicii  still  renuiins  between 
the  pillars,  so  that  now  neither  fat  nor  lean  can  enter 
Heaven  by  this  door. 

In  this  mosque  there  is  a  very  beautiful  carved  pulpit, 
some  ancient  copies  of  the  Koran,  which  are  well  worth  ex- 
amining if  the  custodian  can  be  persuaded  to  let  us  have  a 
glimpse  of  them,  and  there  are  also  some  hairs  from  ]\Ioham- 
med's  beard,  carefully  preserved  in  green  wooden  boxes. 
These,  I  understand,  are  never  visible  to  infidel  eyes,  and  we 
must  take  it  on  trust  that  wrai>ped  up  in  innumerable 
cloths  and  reposing  in  a  large  wooden  box,  is  an  actual  hair 
from  the  very  beard  of  the  marvelous  man  who  so  deeply 
impressed  the  world  by  his  fanaticism  and  strange  person- 
ality. 

Underneath  the  mosque  of  El  Aksa  are  the  so-called 
"stables  of  Solomon,"  huge  subterranean  caverns  sup])orted 
by  stone  pillars  in  which  one  would  think  a  thousand  horses 
might  easily  find  accommodation,  but  whether  one  of  Solo- 
mon's gaily  ca])arisoned  steeds  ever  munched  his  hay  and 
oats  in  these  caverns  is  an  open  question.  They  were  un- 
doubtedly, however,  used  by  the  Crusaders  and  Templars  in 
the  middle  ages,  and  the  rings  to  which  they  tied  their 
horses  are  still  found  in  the  stone  pillars. 

Kow  let  us  go  out  into  the  open  air  once  more.  It  is  re- 
freshing to  breath  God's  sweet  zephyrs,  and  to  stand  in  His 
sunlight  once  more,  after  the  dismal,  op})ressing  shadows  of 
the  Mohammedan  mosque.  As  we  look  around  we  find 
that  both  of  these  moscjues  and  the  other  buildings  of  the 
Ilaram  stand  on  a  broad  plateau,  much  of  which  is  given  up 


N 


500 


THE  PLACE  OF  THE  LAST  JUDGMENT. 


,1 


'  '( 


to  coarse  grass  and  coarser  weeds,  with  here  and  there  a 
pretty  wikl  flower  peeping  out  of  its  green  bed. 

PYom  the  top  of  the  wall  we  can  get  a  magnificent  view 
of  the  valley  of  Jehoshaphat  and  the  Mount  of  Olives  be- 
yond. The  whole  hillside,  which  slopes  down  to  the  deep 
ravine  and  then  rises  suddenly  on  the  other  side,  is  dotted 
with  tombs, —  Moslem  tombs  on  the  side  next  to  the  city, 
Jewish  graves  on  the  further  side,  for  Jews  and  Moslems 
alike  agree  that  here  at  the  resurrection  day  the  nations  will 
assemble  to  be  judged  for  the  deeds  done  in  the  body. 

To  them  this  is  the  most  solemnly  sacred  place  in  the 
world,  and  the  suggestion  from  the  wall  which  suri'ounds 
the  temple  area  is  surpassingly  awful  to  their  imagination. 
Projecting  over  the  wall  and  built  in  horizontally  is  a  pros- 
trate column.  The  Mohammedans  say  that  from  this  column 
a  thin  wire  rope,  when  Gabriers  trumpet  blast  proclaims  the 
last  judgment,  will  be  stretched  to  the  Mount  of  Olives. 
Christ  will  sit  on  the  wall,  they  say,  and  Mohammed  on  the 
opposite  mountain  as  the  judges  of  all  the  nations  of  the  earth 
who  will  be  gathered  in  the  valley  beneath.  All  men  must 
pass  over  the  valley  on  this  rope.  The  righteous  Avill  be 
miraculously  kept  from  falling,  and  w411  fly  across  the  ro])e 
like  lightning,  while  the  wicked  will  fall  into  the  abyss 
below  and  there  will  writhe  in  torment  forever. 

There  are  many  more  traditions,  wonderful  and  startling 
and  curious,  Avhich  cluster  around  this  temple  area. 

Not  far  from  this  mosque,  Avhich  is  so  crowded  with 
Moslem  traditions,  is  a  place  which  is  still  more  Interesting 
and  far  more  pathetic  in  my  eyes  than  the  one  where  Ave 
have  spent  the  morning ;  as  much  more  pathetic  as  is  real 
grief  than  doubtful  traditions  and  simulated  sorrow.  I  refer 
to  the  wailing  place  of  the  Jews.  To  this  sorrowful  spot 
let  us  take  our  way  through  the  dirty,  crowded  streets. 


JEWS   AT   THE    VVAILIN(i   PLACE. 


601 


ctling 

with 
!sting 
[•e  we 
s  real 

refer 
spot 


It  is  Friday  afternoon  that  we  visit  this  most  doleful  place, 
and  after  winding  in  and  out  through  narrow  streets  and 
lanes  we  find  our  way  barred  by  a  high  wall  composed 
in  its  lower  courses  of  huge  blocks  of  stone.  This  wall  is  50 
feet  in  height  and  150  in  length  and  consists  of  24  layers  of 
stone,  several  of  the  stones  being  from  12  to  1(5  feet  in 
length. 

As  we  come  into  the  narrow  courtyard  bounded  by  this 


WAILIN(J    PLACE   OF  THE   JEWS. 


high  wall  Ave  find  it  filled  with  Jews  of  all  ages,  and  of  all 
conditions  of  life.  Men,  Avomen,  and  children ;  well-dressed 
Jews  and  ragged  Jews ;  dirty  Jews  and  clean  Jews ;  dudish 
Jews  dressed  in  the  latest  Paris  style,  and  old  patriarchs  in 
sheepskin  jackets  and  baggy  trousers;  fresh  young  faces 
whose  beauty  is  not  wholly  spoiled  by  the  inevitable  Roman 
beak  which  so  often  makes  the  Jew  look  like  a  bird  of  prey, 
and  old  weather-beaten  Pharisees  with  love-locks  curling 
about  each  ear,  and  dangling  down  under  their  round  caps. 


1 


503 


THE  SOLEMN  LITANY. 


Sitting  on  the  ground  were  several  old  rabbis,  reading 
from  well-tlunnbed  books  of  the  law  the  appropriate  pas- 
sages of  lamentation  and  woe,  while  others  responded  in 
grief-striken  accents,  "  We  sit  in  solitude  and  mourn." 

But  the  most  pathetic  sight  to  me  was  that  of  old 
women  whose  grief  could  not  be  restrained  and  was  evi- 
dently as  genuine  as  it  was  uncontrollable,  Si)reading  out 
their  withered  hands  on  the  rough  stones  of  the  wall,  with 
tears  running  down  their  cheeks,  they  would  passionately 
kisr  the  stones  worn  smooth  by  the  lips  of  countless  pilgrims, 
and  cry  out  in  very  bitterness  of  spirit  as  they  thought 
of  the  glories  which  had  forever  departed  and  the  shame 
and  contumely  which  had  come  to  their  once  great  nation. 

Here  is  the  litany  that  was  chanted,  and  my  readers  can 
imagine  the  weird  and  sorrowful  scene  as  the  leader,  with 
the  great  book  of  the  law  opened  before  him,  wails  out  his 
agony,  and  the  people,  many  of  them  with  tears  streaming 
down  their  faces,  utter  the  responses.  Here  is  this  strange 
responsive  service  which  every  week  for  many  generations 
has  been  heard  by  the  stern  gray  walls  that  overlook  the 
scene  and  seem  forever  to  bar  the  progress  and  happiness  of 
the  Jewish  nation. 

Leader.       "  For  the  palace  that  lies  desolate," 
Response.     "  We  sit  in  solitude  and  mourn." 

Leader.       "For  the  palace  that  is  destroyed," 
Response.     "  We  sit  in  solitude  and  mourn." 

Leader.  "  For  the  walls  that  arc  overthrown," 

Response.  "  We  sit  in  solitude  and  mount." 

Leader.  "  For  our  great  men  who  lie  dead," 

Response.  "  We  sit  in  solitude  and  mourn." 

Leader.  "  For  the  priests  who  have  stumbled," 

Response.  "  We  sit  in  solitude  and  mourn." 

Leader.       "  For  our  kings  who  have  despised  him," 
Response.     "  We  sit  in  solitude  and  mourn." 


A   MORE  JOYOUS   STRAIN. 


503 


range 


At  this  point  the  service  rises  from  this  minor  icey  for  a 
moment.  Tlie  tears  of  the  wailing  multitude  are  dried  for  a 
little  while.  They  cease  to  heat  the  wall  with  their  with- 
ered hands,  as,  for  a  moment,  the  joy  of  the  coming  kingdom 
in  which  they  still  hope  Israel  nuiy  have  a  share,  l>reaks 
upon  their  vision;  and,  while  their  leader  reads:  "We  pray 
thee  have  mercy  on  Zion,"  the  response  comes  back, 
"Gather  the  children  of  Jerusalem." 

Leader.        "  Ilastu,  haste,  Redeemer  of  Ziou." 
Itesponse.     "  Speak  to  the  heart  of  Jem  .sale  in." 

Leader.        "  May  beauty  and  majesty  surrouud  Zion." 
liespoiise.     "Ah,  turn  thytielf,  luereiful  to  Jerusalem." 

Leader.        "May  the  kingdom  soon  return  to  Zion." 
Eefipoiise.     "  Comfort  thone  icho  mourn  over  Jerusalem." 

Leader,        •'  May  peace  and  joy  abide  witli  Zion." 
Response.     "And  the  branch  of  Jesse  spriny  up  at  Jerusalem." 

As  one  listens  to  this  sad  wail,  even  though  relieved  at 
times  by  a  more  joyous  strain,  he  cannot  help  believing  that 
the  Jews  are  not  cast  off  forever,  that  a  people  of  so  much 
moral  earnestness  and  intensity  have  a  great  future  as  well 
as  a  great  history  behind  them,  and  that  a  nation  that  has 
resisted  the  encroachments  of  everv  enemy  that  could  be 
marshaled  against  them  and  still  retain  in  their  integritN'  so 
many  of  their  national  characteristics,  have  a  strength  and 
tenacity  of  purpose  which  will  be  used  by  Providence  in 
working  out  in  the  future  His  great  design. 

Mean  and  squalid  as  is  the  wailing  place  of  the  Jews,  one 
returns  from  a  visit  there  not  only  impressed  and  saddened 
by  the  concentrated  grief  of  a  great  people,  but  also  im- 
pressed with  the  possibilities  of  such  a  people  when  regen- 
erated and  redeemed  by  the  Saviour  whom  now  they  reject, 
when  they  shall  take  their  place  among  the  united,  progress- 
ive Christian  nations  of  the  world. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

IN  THE  HOME  OF  SAINT  PAUL  — THE  FAMOUS  CEDARS  OF 
LEBANON -OUH  EXPERIENCES  IN  THE  LAND  OF  THE 
SULTAN -AT   THE  MERCY   OF  INHOSPITABLE  TURKS. 

Embarking  iit  Jaffa  —  Amerioans  in  Syria  — Tlieir  Spk'ndid  College  —  An 
Interesting  Room  —  Tiie  Beginning  of  Our  Trll)ulations  —  ATurliisli 
Custom  House  —  Forbidden  Words  —  Tlie  Sapient  Censor  —  A  School 
Boy's  Composition  and  Wliat  Came  of  it  —  Tlie  Use  of  Ironclads 
—  An  Ill-starred  Rebellion —  "  No  Mean  City"  — St.  Paul's  Well — 
Drawing  Water  from  It  —  St.  Paul's  Tree  —  St.  Paul's  Institute  — 
Humble  Streets  — A  Walk  to  the  Vali's  Palace —"  Palace "  or 
"Sheds"?  —  In  the  Presence  of  His  Excellency — "The  Bouyou- 
rouldou  "  —  Ollicial  Handwriting — A  Sunday  in  Adana  —  A  Living 
Screen  —  A  Congregation  of  Fezzes — Squatting  on  the  Floor — "la 
America  on  a  Hill  ?  "  —  Preparing  for  our  Overland  Journey. 


UR  way  from  the  Holy  City  to  the 
land  of  the  Sultan  proper,  led  back 
once  more  to  Jaffa,  where  we 
found  the  sea  smiling  and  calm  as 
though  it  liad  never  thought  of 
frightening  poor  pilgrims,  or  in- 
gulfing their  frail  boats  as  it  so 
often  seems  to  do.  Our  embarka- 
tion was  as  quiet  and  peaceful  as 
the  landing  was  stormy,  and  the 

\r'fi^^^q^^^^  next  morning  after  leaving  Jaffa, 

we  found  ourselves  anchored  in 

the  roadstead  of  Beirut,  the  most  enterprising  and  populous 

seacoast  city  of  Syria. 

While  Beirut  has  many  points  of  interest  to  the  passing 

traveler,  that  which  impressed  us  most  strongly  was  the  work 

(504) 


TRANSLATING  THE  BIBLE  INTO  ARABIC. 


505 


the 
iilfa, 
d  in 
ilous 


of  the  American  I*resbvterijin  Mission  with  its  j^reut  printing 
j)resses,  its  churches,  its  school,  and  above  all  the  magnificent 
American  college  which  is  the  outgrowth  of  missionary  work 
unil  inthience,  and  which  now  boasts  of  buildings  and  ecjuip- 
ment  and  faculty  of  which  neither  Yale  nor  Harvard  nor 
Dartmouth  nor  J*rinceton  need  be  ashamed. 

The  Hospital  of  the  Knights  of  8t.  John  is  here  under  the 
care  of  the  medical  faculty  of  the  college,  and  is  a  most  use- 
ful and  worthy  institution.  This  fine  universitv  onlv  iroes 
to  show  that  modern  ideas  of  American  Christian  education 
are  just  as  good  for  the  Orient  as  for  the  Occident,  that  the 
same  training  and  Christian  nurture  which  develops  well- 
rounded,  symmetrical  character  in  the  American  youth 
accomplishes  the  same  for  the  young  men  of  Syria ;  for 
never  ha\e  I  seen  a  more  manly  or  interesting  body  of  stu- 
dents than  assembled  in  the  American  College  of  Beirut. 
One  of  the  most  interesting  historical  sights  to  every  Ameri- 
can Christian  is  that  of  a  low  and  bare  attic-room  in  one  of 
the  mission  buildings  where  the  translation  of  the  Bible  into 
Arabic  was  begun  and  completed  by  two  American  scholars. 
A  marble  tablet  on  the  wall  bears  this  inscription : 

la  this  Room 

The  IVanalation  of  the  Bible 

Into  the  Arabic  Language 

Was  Begun  in  1848, 

by  Rev.  Eli  Smith,  D.D., 

and  prosecuted  by  him  until  his  death  in  January,  1857. 

It  teas  then  taken  up  in  October,  1857,  bxj  Rev.  C.  V.  A.  Vandyck,  D.D.,  aid 

completed  by  him  August  23,  I8G4. 

Away  to  the  north,  over  a  lougli  and  difficult  road,  are 
the  famous  Cedars  of  Lebanon. 

They  are  in  a  valley  which  is  dominated  by  the  high 
peaks  of  the  range,  and  stand  on  a  little  hill  or  knoll,  so  that 
they  are  visible  from  a  considerable  distance. 


506 


THE  FAMOUS  CEDARS  OF  LEBANON. 


i 


!l;!'i' 


Hi 


Though  there  are  other  ce(hir  groves  iii  Syria,  the  0113 
here  lueationed  is  tiie  most  im[)ortaiit,  for  the  reason  that  it 
is  su|)i)ose(l  to  have  furnished  the  timber  for  Solomon's  Tem- 
])le,  as  recorded  in  tiie  Ohl  Testament. 

There  is  a  great  deal  of  romantic  interest  attached  to  these 
trees.  One  has  heard  of  them  from  childhood,  and  has  pic- 
tured to  one's  self  treos  of  more  than  ordinary  lieauty,  and 
of  an  exce[)tional  fragrance.  Tiiese  ideas  prol)al)ly  arise 
fi'om  knowing  that  Solomon  considered  no  other  wood 
Avortiiy  of  being  used  in  the  adornment  of  the  Temple,  and 
that  Tiglath-Pileser,  having  con(juered  Carcheinish,  came 
hither  for  the  express  })urpose  of  carrying  away  a  goodly 
number  of  these  forest  treasures  to  beautify  his  palaces. 

It  IS  probalile,  that  at  a  very  distant  date  the  sIoj)es  of 
Lebanon  were  clothed  with  forest ;  but  from  time  to  time  so 
many  trees  have  been  cut  down  by  the  Syrians  themselves, 
as  well  as  by  their  conquerors,  that  at  tiie  present  day  they 
exist  onlv  in  small  isolated  •j'roves.  The  most  extensive  of 
these,  known  to  us  as  "  The  C'edar.s  of  Lebauim,"  is  called  l)y 
the  Syrians  "  The  Grove  of  the  Lord,"  and  in  it  there  are 
three  hundred  and  ninety-three  trees  ;  of  these,  only  twelve 
are  of  any  great  size,  and  they  have  received  the  name  of 
"■  The  Twelve  Apostles,"  from  a  tradition  that  Clirist  once 
visited  this  s[)ot  with  His  a]»ostles,  who  planted  their  staves, 
which  grew  into  these  goodly  cedars. 

Kind  friends  made  our  two  days  in  J>eirut  memorable, 
and  crowded  them  with  pleasant  memories.  Then  we  again 
took  ship,  and,  after  skirting  the  IMed iterranean  coast,  touch- 
ing for  a  few  hours  at  Tripoli,  Latakia,  and  Alexandretta,  we 
came  to  anchor  in  the  harbor  of  Mei"sin,  and  found  ourselves, 
beyond  all  peradventurc,  in  the  land  of  the  Sultan  of  Sultans, 
and  within  the  very  borders  of  the  unspeakable  Turk. 

To  be  sure,  Syria  is  n(jminally  ruled  by  the  Sultan  and 


S 


ettii,  we 
iiu'selves, 
Sultans, 


T   -  3  '5 

i    ST  —    1 

<  t  <  s 


..   =  7'     v. 


■    -.  -  P' 

c  -  §  X 

^  . .  ■/. 

v'  -  -3  _ 


:1         ,     ;■   — 

1  ni 
\  m 


tail  and 


in 


I  1 


AT  THE  MERCY  OF  OFFICIOUS  TURKS. 


509 


pays  tribute  to  Turkey,  and  though  this  rule  is  severe  enough 
in  all  conscience,  and  his  oppression  and  tyranny  sufficiently 
galling,  yet  no  one  knows  the  full  extent  to  which  outrageous 
tyranny  can  be  carried,  until  he  actually  sets  foot  in  Asia 
Minor,  and  finds  himself  in  the  Turk's  own  pi-oper  domain. 

Our  tribulations  began 
with  the  Custom  House. 
Though  we  had  three  or 
four  kind  friends  who  ex- 
erted themselves  to  their 
utmost  to  see  us  safely 
through,  their  offices  did 
not  altogether  avail.  Our 
trunks  were  rummaged, 
our  travelino:  bags  were 
turned  inside  out,  and 
everything  in  the  nature 
of  a  book,  even  innocent 
Badit?ker  and  ^Murray,  was 
confiscated  by  this  pater- 
nal government  which  is 
so  careful  in  regard  to  the 
reading  matter  of  its  sub- 
jects. And  here,  as  lirst 
we  land  upon  the  inhos- 
pitaljlo  sliores  of  Turkey, 
may,  perha})s,  be  as  good 
a  time  as  any  to  tell  my  readers  something  of  the  tyranny 
which  is  only  typified  by  the  Sultan's  custom  house. 

It  can  be  well  imagined  that  the  work  of  the  Christian 
missionary  comes  in  for  the  es])ecial  and  i)articularly  un- 
favorable notice  of  the  Turkish  government.  An  old  treaty 
with    the  Christian  powers    prevents  the  Ottomans  from 


DRUSE   FROM   MOUNT   I.EnAXON. 


510 


OBSTACLES  THROWN  IN  OUR  WAY. 


crushing  out  Cliristianity  entirely  from  their  land,  as  they 
would  be  glad  to  do.  This  treaty  guarantees  liberty  to 
worship  God  as  the  people  choose,  but  in  every  way  in  which 
it  can  be  made  a  dead  letter  it  is  annulled.  Churches  which 
are  already  established  cannot  be  very  well  destroyed,  but  if 
a  congregation  wishes  to  build  a  new  church  or  schoolhouse, 
or  to  put  up  any  mission  building  of  any  kind,  the  most 
needless  and  exasperating  obstacles  are  thrown  in  the  way. 
One  of  the  laws  requires  that  permission  shall  be  granted  by 
the  government  authorities  for  any  such  new  building,  and 
some  of  our  missionaries  have  been  Avaiting  for  3'ears  and 
years  for  the  permission,  which  they  can  never  get,  to  erect 
their  church  or  schoolhouse,  even  though  the  money  is 
raised  and  the  material  on  hand  for  the  structure. 

The  chief  object  in  my  journey  across  Asia  Minor,  as  my 
readers  know,  was  to  speak  in  various  large  centers  where  I 
had  been  invited  in  behalf  of  the  Society  of  Christian  En- 
deavor, and  to  visit  societies  already  established.  But  I 
found  at  once  that  obstacles  and  restrictions  in  the  way  of 
Christian  work  had  so  multiplied  of  late  that  it  would  be 
very  difficult  to  do  what  I  had  intended.  I  was  told  that  I 
must  not  use  in  public  address  the  words  "organization," 
"society,"  "fellowship,"  "brotherhood,"  or  anything  which 
told  of  the  union  of  young  ]>eople  for  religious  or  other 
purposes ;  that  it  Avas  against  the  policy  of  the  Turkish 
government  to  allow  the  people  to  unite  or  combine  for  any 
purpose  whatsoever  in  any  society  or  organization,  and  that 
everything  was  being  done  that  was  possible  to  break  up 
all  religious  organizations. 

In  every  audience  which  I  addressed,  and  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  speaking  to  many  during  my  four  Aveeks  in 
Turkey,  I  Avas  told  that  a  Turkish  spy  Avas  in  the  congrega- 
tion, and  that  any  ill-considered  Avord  might  land  myself  and 


TURKISH  STUPIDITY  AND  IGNORANCE. 


511 


ler 


liat 


Ithe 


in 


lind 


half  my  audience  in  a  Turkish  jail.  Everything  in  the  way 
of  printed  matter  which  comes  into  Turkey  has  to  pass  under 
the  close  scrutiny  of  a  stupid  and  ignorant  censor  of  the 
])ress.  So  absurd  are  his  objections,  and  so  rigid  is  his 
inspection,  that  very  little  literature  of  any  kind  is  allowed 
in  these  davs. 

As  illustrations  of  the  stupidity  which  reigns  in  the 
censor's  office  many  amusing  stories  are  told.  For  instance, 
a  Sunday-school  lesson,  which  bore  the  Scriptural  title 
"Jesus  Christ  came  into  the  Avorld  to  save  sinners,"  was 
amended  by  the  censor  so  as  to  read,  "  Jesus  Christ  came 
into  the  Avorld  to  save  Christian  sinners,"  since  he  wanted  it 
plainly  understood  that  the  Redeemer  had  nothing  to  do 
with  Turkish  sinners.  A  daily  Bible  reading,  which  was 
headed  "  Trouble  in  the  Palace,"  referring  to  the  palace 
which  is  spoken  of  in  the  Book  of  Esther,  w^as  forbidden 
because  trouble  and  a  palace  (the  Sultan's  palace,  of  course) 
could  not  be  spoken  of  in  tlie  same  breath.  Another  Bible 
reading  which  bore  the  inoffensive  title,  "The  People  En- 
couraged," was  likewise  absolutely  forbidden,  ^vith  the  sug- 
gestive comment  that  the  government  did  not  wish  the  people 
to  be  encouraged. 

Doubtless  the  truth  Avas  spoken  in  this  comment  if  in  no 
other,  but  this  extreme  rigor  of  the  censor  applies  not  onl}' 
to  religious  books,  but  to  school  text-books  as  Avell,  and  here 
even  more  absurd  and  amusing  stories  of  the  censor's  stupid 
caution  are  told.  A  book  on  chemi'^try.  which  of  course 
contained  the  familiar  formula,  "IlgO,"  was  forbidden, 
because  it  was  supposed  to  have  some  occult  reference  to  the 
reigning  sovereign,  who  is  llamid  2d,  and  it  was  interpreted 
to  mean  "llamid  2d  is  nothing."  A  geographical  text-book 
Avas  forbidden  because  it  referred  to  the  junction  or  union  of 
rivers,  and  the  author  was  told  that  his  Majesty  desired  the 


•  II 


-:3 


513 


A   DISCREET    ARMENIAN. 


Ml 

I 


youth  of  his  country  to  know  nothing  about  union  or  com- 
bination. A  chapter  on  star  fishes  was  striclvcn  out  of  a 
text-book  of  natural  liistory,  because  some  hiiklen  reference 
to  the  Sultan's  "Star  palace"  was  suspected. 

But  these  emendations  and  objections  of  the  censor  might 
easily  be  dismissed  with  a  laugh,  as  the  vagaries  of  an 
ignorant  man  having  in  his  hands  for  a  brief  time  the  reins 
of  otfice,  did  they  n(jt  show  a  studied  and  deliberate  effort  on 
the  part  of  the  officials  to  prevent  all  learning  and  advance- 
ment along  the  line  of  Christian  civilization.  The  policy  of 
the  government  is  evidently  ojipressive  and  reactionary,  and 
it  means  to  do  everything  that  it  can  to  crush  out  the  sparks 
of  Christian  education. 

When  it  comes  to  absolute  torture,  imprisonment,  and 
death,  this  oppression  is  no  longer  a  laughing  matter,  and  to 
this  point  it  has  come  to  hundreds  of  the  subjects  of  the 
Sultan.  An  intelligent  and  well-educated  native  Armenian 
Protestant  pastor  whom  I  visited  had  recently  received  a 
letter  from  Prof.  Henry  Drummond  of  Glasgow,  in  Avhich 
the  writer  spoke  of  his  desire  to  visit  ''^  Armenia.'^  The  poor 
man  who  received  the  letter  did  not  dare  to  keep  it  in  his 
house  with  that  compromising  word  on  the  title  page,  so  he 
had  carefully  cut  out  the  word  "■  Armenia,"  and  written  over 
the  place  Avhere  it  had  formerly  appeared  the  word  "  Turkey." 
Even  the  possession  of  that  letter  with  that  comjiromising 
word  might  have  meant  for  him  years  of  imprisonment  in  a 
Turkish  dungeon. 

Another  man  of  whom  I  know  was  imprisoned  for  two 
years  simply  l)ecause  the  Turkish  police  found  among  his 
effects,  when  they  Avere  searching  his  house  on  one  occasion, 
a  school-l)oy  conijiosition  which  spoke  of  freedom  and  liberty, 
and  expressed  some  natural  sentiments  for  a  larger  and  more 
untrammeled  life  than  he  was  then  leading.     This  composi- 


A  COWARDLY  TYRANT. 


613 


two 

Iff  liis 
lasion, 
pert}-, 
more 
liiposi- 


tion,  written  fifteen  years  before  his  arrest,  had  been  thrown 
one  side  and  entirely  forgotten  until  it  was  resurrected  by 
the  prying  Turkish  officials.  P>ut  it  was  enough  to  compro- 
mise its  author,  and  for  two  years  he  languished  in  a  Turkish 
jail  in  consequence  of  that  innocent  boyish  eifusion.  These 
are  only  a  few  incidents  from  many  that  might  be  cited  to 
illustrate  the  outrageous  tyranny  of  the  weak  and  tiinid  ruler 
who  reigns  on  the  banks  of  the  Bosi)horus.  They  are 
enough,  however,  to  show  the  terror  under  which  many  of 
"  the  sick  man's "  subjects  live,  and  they  are  enough  to 
arouse  the  indignation  of  every  freedom-loving  American 
and  Englishman  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 

Only  by  a  combined  protest  of  the  Christian  powers  of 
the  world,  backed  up  by  the  necessary  ironclads,  can  this  un- 
happy state  of  things  be  changed ;  but  such  a  protest  would 
be  effective,  and  very  quickly  would  the  cringing  tyrant,  in 
whose  name  these  outrages  are  perpetrated,  issue  different 
orders  from  those  which  now  go  forth  from  his  palace,  if  he 
saw  that  the  Christian  powers  "  meant  business."  The  pre- 
text for  these  especially  oji'n'essive  measures  wOiicli  have 
disgraced  the  government  during  the  past  year,  is  found  in 
the  so-called  Armenian  rebellion,  an  ill-timed,  fruitless,  and 
abortive  uprising  which  was  fomented  largely  by  a  society 
of  Armenians  whose  motives  were  anything  but  patriotic. 

They  represented,  however,  only  a  very  snuill  proportion 
of  their  countrymen,  and  the  chief  result  of  their  ill-starred 
rebellion  lias  been  to  make  their  fellow  countrymen  feel 
more  severelv  than  ever  before  the  crushing  heel  of  the 
tyrant  of  Constantino])le. 

But  we  have  not  yet  got  beyond  the  custom  house  at 
Mersin,  so  long  have  we  been  in  unburdening  our  souls  of  the 
righteous  indignation  that  has  taken  possession  of  them.  i 

Mersin  is  an  uninteresting  seacoast  town,  where  some  fine 


i'^' 


'1 

'  ', 
11' 

ill 
I': 

if! 


514 


IN  THE  HOME  OF   SAINT  PAUL. 


'l'!. 


y 


missionary  work  is  boinf^  accomplishod  by  tlio  Kofoi'ined 
Prosbytoriiin  Cliui'cli  of  America  among  the  Arabic-si)(>akin<^ 
Syrians.  As  soon  as  we  could  collect  the  belonoinos  which 
the  government  allowed  us  to  keep,  we  boarded  the  train  on 
the  little  railway  which  runs  between  Mersin  and  Adana. 
"What  is  the  name  of  this  place  which  we  hear  the  l)i'akeman 
calling  out  with  stentorian  lungs  (■  "Tarsus,  Tai'sus."  Can 
it  be  that  this  is  the  famous  city  of  Bible  history,  tlie  birth- 
place of  the  greatest  man  who  ever  lived,  the  Apostle  to  the 
Gentiles?  It  certainly  is  no  other.  This  was  the  city  of 
the  great  tent-maker,  avIio  here  wrought  Avith  his  own  hands, 
and  who,  with  a  touch  of  ])ardonable  pride  in  after  years, 
spoke  of  Tarsus,  his  birth])laco,  as  "  no  mean  city." 

The  first  thought  that  is  apt  to  occur  to  the  traveler  in 
modern  days  is  that  whatever  Tarsus  may  have  been  in  the 
days  of  Saint  Paul  it  is  certainly  a  very  mean  city  in  some 
of  its  aspects  to-day.  Its  streets  are  many  of  them  narrow 
and  exceedingly  liltliy.  Few  of  its  houses  present  any 
claim  to  architectural  excellence.  The  roads  leading  to  it 
are  washed  and  almost  impassable  in  many  places,  and  yet 
in  all  these  particulars  it  is  not  only  no  worse,  but  probably 
far  better  tiian  the  average  Turkish  city.  Comparatively 
speaking,  it  can  still  be  said  that  Tarsus  is  no  mean  city. 

Everything  of  chief  interest  in  this  ancient  place  clusters 
about  the  name  of  the  great  a])ostle.  To  be  sure,  the  re- 
puted tomb  of  Sardana})alus  is  here,  but  it  attracts  only  a 
momentary  and  languid  interest  compared  with  anything 
that  relates  to  Saint  Paul.  These  relics  are  few  and  meagre 
enough,  and  probably,  in  the  whole  collection,  there  is  noth- 
ing that  is  absolutely  and  beyond  question  authentic. 

Here,  however,  is  the  so-called  house  of  Saint  Paul, 
which  of  course  we  visited.  In  the  ample  courtyard  there  is 
an  ancient  well  which  goes  by  the  name  of  "Saint  Paul's 


THE   HOUSE  AND   WELL  OP  SAINT   PAUL. 


515 


noth- 

Paul, 

iere  is 

•aul's 


"Well,"  whose  curbstone  is  worn  (lee})  in  many  ])laces  by  the 
ropes  whicii  for  countless  generations  have  drawn  the  wjiter 
from  its  licjuid  (le])ths.  AV'e  also  drew  a  bucket  of  water 
and  quenched  our  thirst  and  looked  down  into  the  silent 
depths  which  reflected  the  eye  of  the  sun  as  it  doul)tless 
did  when  the  boy  Saul  })eered  down  into  its  <le])ths,  for  these 
ancient  wells  are  amon<j:  the  most  authentic  as  tliev  are  the 
most  indestructii)le  evidences  of  antiquity. 

The  house  of  Saint  Paul,  which  occupies  one  side  of  this 
courtyard,  is  no  doubt  a  conq)aratively  modern  sti'ucture,  but 
it  is  quite  possible  that  it  stands  ujmn  the  site  of  Saint  Paul's 
own  domicile.  It  was  formei'ly  the  residence  of  the  Ameri- 
can Vice-Consul  at  Tarsus,  and  we  were  very  hospitably 
welcomed  by  his  widow  into  their  sittinf^-room,  a  comfort- 
able apartment  surrounded  on  three  sides  by  broad  Turkish 
divans,  but  containing  no  very  noticeable  features  or  me- 
mentoes. 

In  another  part  of  the  city  is  a  fine  Armenian  church 
and  school,  near  which  stands  a  gnarled  and  rugged  tree 
wiiich  tradition  for  many  generations  has  called  "Saint 
Paul's  tree."  For  many  years  it  has  l)een  withered  and 
utterly  dead,  and  it  is  not  altogether  impossible  that  it  may 
have  been  growing  eighteen  hundred  years  ago,  and  that 
the  boy  Saul  played  under  its  shady  branches.  At  any  rate, 
its  wood  seems  to  be  almost  indestructiljle,  for  when,  with 
the  permission  of  the  authorities  which  owned  it,  I  tried  to 
cut  a  sliver  from  its  trunk  as  a  memento,  it  almost  turned 
the  blade  of  my  penknife,  so  compact  was  the  iron  fibre  of 
the  wood. 

But  of  all  the  institutions  connected  with  the  name  of 
Saint  Paul  the  one  most  interesting  to  me  was  Saint  I'aul's 
School,  which  was  founded  by  the  late  Col.  Elliott  F.  Shep- 
herd,    On  the  very  day  of  our  arrival  in  Tarsus  news  of  his 


iif! 


516 


DTRT  AND  FILTH   EVERYWHERE. 


M 


lamented  death  had  been  cabled  across  the  sea,  and  teachers 
and  scholars  alike  were  in  profound  sorrow  in  conse(pience. 
However,  their  sorrow  was  mitigated  when  it  was  learned 
after  a  little  that  he  had  endowed  the  school  with  $100,U(>(> 
by  his  last  will  and  testament.  A  fine,  manl\',  courageous 
set  of  bovs  were  these  who  Avere  gathered  together  to  the 
number  of  nearly  one  hundred  in  this  historic  citv,  and 
according  to  their  ability  and  opportunity,  many  will  go  out 
from  this  school  in  the  future  Avith  the  spirit  of  Saint  Paul 
to  do  for  their  land  what  he  did  for  all  the  world. 

From  Tarsus  to  Adana  is  twenty  miles  further  by  rail,  and 
in  this  latter  city  we  si)ent  two  or  three  memorable  days,  for 
they  introduced  us  largely  to  missionary  Avork  in  Turkey, 
and  acquainted  us  AA'ith  seA'^eral  braA^e  hearts  Avho  are  here 
quietly  and  unostentatiously  AA'orking  for  the  JVlaster.  Here, 
too,  AA'e  got  our  first  extended  a'Icav  of  genuine  Turkish  life. 

Here  Turkey  is  neither  at  its  AA'orst  nor  at  its  best.  Pro- 
testant influence  has  leaA^ened  and  eleA^ated  the  tone  of  the 
city  to  some  extent,  but  the  many  minarets  from  Avhich  flA'^e 
times  a  day  at  the  hour  of  prayer  the  muezzin  sounds  his 
call  shows  that  the  predominating  influence  is  still  most 
strongly  Mohammedan.  The  horrible  streets  full  of  pitfalls 
and  miry  clay,  the  filthy  alleys  AA'hich  serA^e  as  receptacles 
for  rubbish  and  sAA'ill,  garbage  and  dead  animals  of  A^arious 
kinds,  shoAV  that  insufferable  dirt  is  one  concomitant  of 
Turkish  rule. 

One  of  our  errands  AA'hile  in  Adana  took  us  to  the  Yali  or 
goA^ernor  of  the  proA^nce,  for  AA'-e  desired  of  him  passports 
and  a  safe  conduct  across  the  country  to  Constantinople. 
Let  us  take  this  AA'alk  and  A^sit  the  Yali  together  this  morn- 
ing. As  AA'e  turn  out  of  the  mission  house,  Avhere  aa'c  are 
making  our  home,  Ave  see  at  a  glance  that  Ave  are  in  the 
very  heart  of  Turkey.    EA'ery  person  Avliom  Ave  meet,  even 


Mv 


THE    UBIQUITOUS   TURKISH   FEZ.  517 

the  occasional  foreigner,  if  ho  is  of  the  male  persuasion 
Avears  the  inevitable  red  Turkish  fez,  and  most  of  them  arj 
clad  m  baggy  trousers  and  long  loose  garments  whicii  reach 
below  the  knee.    In  one  of  the  narrow  streets  though  which 


OUR  TTTRKISH  PASSPORT. 

we  pass  we  see  the  ^reaver  of  goafs  hair  plying  his  trade 
almost  on  tlie  sidewalk.  i  .     o      »  uaue 

This  was  the  very  same  material,  doubtless,  of  which 
Paul  made  h,s  tents,  and  perhaps  he  wove  the  cloth  in  the 

Zl  T  Z  "™  ""*"  "*"  ™"^  ""^^  ^"O  f-'^th  from  one 
end  to  the  other  of  his  long  l«,m,  deftly  twirling  his  bobbin 


518 


IN  THE   STREETS  OF  A  TURKISH  CITY. 


and  twisting  the  strands  of  goat's  hair  which  afterwards  will 
be  made  up  into  a*  rough  and  serviceable  cloth. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  street  from  tlie  goat's  hair  man- 
ufacturer is  a  mill  in  which  sesame  oil  is  being  expressed. 
The  sesame  seed  is  run  into  a  great  hopper  after  being 
soaked  for  a  sufficient  time  in  the  vats,  and  is  then  ground 
very  line  beneath  the  revolving  stones  which  are  turned  by 
a  tread-mill  ox,  while  the  oil,  thick  and  dirty,  runs  out  into 
the  vats  beneath  from  a  crevice  in  the  mill-stone.  This  oil  is 
very  much  prized  by  the  natives,  and  is  used  largely  in  mak- 
ing a  popular  kind  of  sweetmeat,  which  one  cannot  fail  to 
appreciate  if  he  spends  many  days  in  Turkey,  so  toothsome 
and  nourishing  is  it. 

And  now  in  our  walk,  we  come  to  the  market-place  of 
the  town,  a  long  covered  street  lined  with  little  booths  on 
either  side,  in  which  everything  imaginable  and  many  things 
unimaginable  are  sold.  Hardware  and  crockery,  dry  goods 
and  groceries,  fish,  flesh,  and  fowl,  and  good  red  herrings, 
too,  for  aught  I  know,  are  all  sold  in  this  busy  bazaar.  Here 
are  money  changers  and  shoemakers,  fez  manufacturers  and 
kettle  makers,  all  jostling  one  another  side  by  side  in  their 
narrow  booths.  It  is  a  scene  of  infinite  life  and  varietv,  and 
would  long  delay  our  footsteps,  if  we  were  not  hurrying  on 
to  see  his  Excellency,  the  Vali  of  Adana,  to  learn  whether  or 
not  we  may  be  allowed  to  make  the  journey  on  which  we 
have  set  our  hearts. 

Not  far  beyond  the  market  place  is  the  so-called  "  palace," 
but  a  sorry  looking  palace  it  is,  indeed,  for  it  strikes  us  that 
it  might  more  properly  be  called  the  "  sheds,"  since  it  consists 
of  a  long  row  of  poor  wooden  structures  around  a  large 
quadrangle.  However,  it  is  more  picturesque  and  impress- 
ive to  speak  of  the  Vali's  "palace"  rather  than  the  Vali's 
"  sheds,"  so  we  will  stick  to  the  Turkish  nomenclature. 


OUR   INTERVI     .V   WITH   THE   VALI. 


519 


="5 


lat 


Passing  iiuuiy  Turkish  guards  and  a  largo  number  of  im- 
portant looking  officials,  who  push  aside  for  us  numerous 
stiff  hangings  of  heavy  quilted  stuffs  which  take  tiie  place  of 
doors,  we  find  ourselves  soon  in  a  large  shal)l)V  room  hung 
with  faded  red  tapestry,  and  in  the  presence  of  the  Vali  him- 
self, lie  is  a  grave  looking  man  of  fifty  years,  or  therea- 
bouts, with  a  good  face  which  indicates  that  he  is  willing  to 
do  what  he  can  for  our  comfort  and  convenience.  First,  he 
politely  passed  us  a  cigarette,  which  we  as  politely  declined, 
and  then,  apologizing  for  not  giving  us  coffee  and  other 
refreshments  because  it  was  Ramidan,  he  talked  very  pleas- 
antly for  a  little  while  of  various  matters,  while  our  mission- 
ary guide  interpreted  his  Turkish  into  our  English.  Then 
insisting  that  we  should  not  go  to  Constantinoj)le  by  way  of 
Marsovan,  which  just  then  was  the  center  of  the  Armenian 
disturbance,  but  that  we  should  go  by  way  of  Angora  which 
was  more  peaceful,  he  very  readily  gave  us  the  necessary 
passports  or  tezkereis,  and  also  a  safe  conduct,  or  "  bouyou- 
rouldou."  This  document  was  written  in  huge  Turkish 
characters,  not  straight  across  the  page,  but  in  a  slanting, 
irregular,  reckless  kind  of  a  fashion  in  which  all  official 
Turkish  documents  are  written,  for  it  is  not  at  all  aufait  to 
Avrite  such  papers  in  ordinary  epistolary  style. 

Such  bold  and  vigorous  penmanship  is  supposed  to  strike 
terror  to  the  hearts  of  all  evil  doers  who  may  be  confronted 
by  it.  It  shows  them  that  it  is  an  official  document,  and,  as 
we  proved  more  than  once  during  the  long  journey  before 
us,  there  is  nothing  like  a  governor  s  bouyourouldou  to  insure 
a  safe  and  happy  transit  across  the  fields  of  Turkey. 

One  of  the  two  days  Avhich  we  spent  in  Adana  was  Sun- 
day, and  I  had  the  pleasure  of  preaching  to  a  very  large  and 
intelligent  congregation  gathered  in  the  American  Mission 
Church.    The  church  itself  is  not  an  extremely  large  one, 


I! 


r 

1, 


520 


PREACHINO   TO    A   TrRKISH   CONGREGATION, 


but  as  souts  are  done  away  with,  and  as  tlio  coiioivfration 
squats  on  tlio  Moor  as  closely  as  men,  women,  and  childivn 
can  1)0  wedded  together,  many  liundi'cds  of  ])eo[)le  can  be 
gathered  into  a  comi)aratively  small  ai'ca.  Of  course  it  is  not 
proper  for  men  and  women  to  sit  together  promiscuously  in 
the  same  part  of  the  church.     In  many  churches  women  are 


A   8YUI.\N   WOMAN   OK   Tlir,   I.OWKIt   CLASS. 

relegated  to  the  galh^y,  or  are  coidlned  beiiind  tlie  lattice 
screen  in  the  back  part  of  the  church  through  wiiich  they 
can  peep  at  the  preacher,  l)ut  through  which  they  cannot  be 
seen  by  ])r'3aclier  or  congr(>gation. 

In  A(hina,  however,  the  middle  wall  or  ))artition  between 
the  men  and  women  was  mad(^  in  a  dilTerent  way.  The 
long  row  of  benches  i-an  through  the  center  of  the  church 


AN   AUniENCK   OF   SgUATTKRS. 


5n 


I  lattice 

they 

ot  be 


'tween 
The 
Icburch 


from  the  pul))it  to  the  doov.  On  tliesc  hiMU-hes  sat  a  t'hise 
line  of  uuMi  with  their  backs  nngallantly  turntHl  toward  the 
women,  who  occu])ie(l  thes])aceon  the  rii^'ht  hand  side  of  the 
cluirch,  screened  from  tho  other  men  by  the  backs  of  tlio 
husbands  and  lathers  wiio  thus  iill'ord  an  clVcctual  bari'ier 
between  the  two  sexes. 

These  hi^li  seats  in  the  sanetnary  are  much  coveted,  I 
understand,    by    the;    older 
and  more  diirnified  men  of 


tl 


le  C(  )n 


li-reiiation,   and    no 


one  IS.  avei'se 


tod 


oniii'  ( 


luty 


as  a  Hvinii-  screen.     All  the 


men  won^  red  lezzes  wliilo 


tl 


le  c 


hief 


si)eaKer   was  ( 


lis- 


tin<'-uished  by  a  iauntv  em- 
l)roider(Hl  bhu^  cap  which 
looked    somethinu"    like    a 


smokinii' 


cai). 


This 


he  I'e- 


moved  durin<!'  the  services 


a  t    w  U\ 


c  li    h  ei 


olHciated. 


AVhen  I  thou<^ht  that  every 
])ossible  inch  of  s<iuattin<;' 
room  was  occupied  on  the 
side  of  the  i)ai'ti- 


A  HYltlAN  WOMAN  OK  THK  IIKTTKU  C  I.AflS. 


wonu'U  s 


tion,  woman  after  woman  wouhl  come  in,  stand  on  one  foot 
for  some  little  time  in  the  smallest  possible  sj)ace,  until  her 
sisters  befoi'e  and  behin<l  and  on  either  side  pulled  away  their 
skirts,  drew  their  knees  a  little  closer  togetliei',  and  so  made 
room  for  the  late  C(mier. 

At  last  the  church  was  absolutely  full,  the  service  began, 
and  a  very  helpful,  reverent,  and  stimulating  service  it  was 
so  far  as  I  could  judge;  though  I  could  not  understand  the 
hymns  or  the  Scripture  readings  or  the  notices,  and  the  ser- 


I'M 


523 


THE  COLLECTION  BOX  IN  TURKEY. 


felt 

I 


m 


m, 


M 

'■I 


mon,  which  I  fear  was  the  poorest  part  of  tlie  service,  was 
laboriously  translated  from  English  into  Turkish.  I  did 
understand  the  collection  box,  however,  which  is  the  same  in 
all  languages. 

It  is  very  certain  that  such  a  congregation  as  this  repre- 
sents the  veiv  best  elements  in  a  Turkish  town.     Not  that 


OUR  LIFE   I'HESERVEK. 

(Facsimile  of  our  "Bouyouroulclou."J 

the  Armenians  themselves  are  superior  to  the  Turks  as  a 
race,  in  fact,  it  would  bo  strange,  if,  raler  these  centuries  of 
oppression  and  tyranny  their  national  characteristics  should 
be  very  manly  or  strong.  Those  who  live  in  Turkey  say 
that  the  Turk,  when  found  free  from  government  influence 
and  not  under  government  employ,  is  the  most  honest, 
manly,  and  straightforward  man  in  the  empire.     He  makes 


REMARKABLE  IGNORANCE  AND  AMUSING  QUESTIONS.      523 


as  a 

I'ies  of 

Ihould 

fey  say 

luence 

lonest, 

knakes 


a  faithful  servant  and  a  true  friend,  but  lie  belongs  to  the 
present  order  of  things.  He  is  part  of  the  machine  which  is 
used  to  crush  the  life  out  of  this  poor  land  and  the  manliness 
out  of  the  subject  races  Avho  inhabit  it.  The  only  hope 
which  I  see  for  Turkey  is  found  in  these  mission  churches 
and  mission  schools  which  are  always  connected  with  them. 
When  the  upheaval  comes,  as  surely  it  will  come  one  of  these 
days,  the  educated  Armenian  Protestants  will  hold  the  key 
of  the  situation  in  their' hands.  Then  will  be  seen  the  value 
of  missionary  influence  and  missionary  work  during  these 
long  decades,  and  that  which  has  been  sown  in  tears  will  be 
reaped  in  joy,  and  many  a  faithful  missionary  will  sing  the 
"  Harvest  Home,"  bearing  himself  the  largest  sheaf  which 
it  is  possible  for  mortal  to  reap. 

The  ignorance  of  the  average  Turk  concerning  places  and 
people  beyond  him  is  most  extraordinary  and  amusing. 
Many  of  them  have  verv  little  idea  that  Turkey  does  not  rule 
all  the  rest  of  the  world,  including  America,  and  many  of 
the  Turks  have  only  just  begun  to  wonder  if  it  is  possible 
that  all  the  people  of  the  world  are  not  Mohammedans.  One 
of  these  conceited  and  ignorant  natives  said  to  a  friend  of 
mine  a  little  while  ago :  "  You  are  constantly  talking 
about  America.  Kow  is  this  America  on  a  hill  or  is  it  situ- 
ated in  a  valley?"  Another,  Avlien  walking  outside  of  a 
Turkish  city,  in  a  most  flat,  uninteresting  suburb,  which  was 
chiefly  noticeable  for  its  rubbish  and  its  dead  cats,  where  my 
friend  assured  me  he  had  to  hold  his  nose  in  order  to  escape 
the  stifling  stench,  was  asked  by  a  native  friend  by  his  side  : 
"  Did  you  ever  see  anything  as  beautiful  as  this  in  America?" 
It  is  difficult,  indeed,  to  enlighten  such  dense  ignorance. 

Two  days  in  Adana  sufficed  to  make  all  our  preparations 
for  the  coming  journey.  In  fact,  the  friend  who  had  come 
from  the  interior  to  meet  us  with  his  faithful  Turkish  servant. 


i^r 


534       PREPARING  FOR  OUR  JOURNEY  ACROSS  TURKEY. 

had  already  made  most  of  these  preparations  before  we  had 
come.  The  spring  wagon,  the  pride  of  the  tom-ing  mission- 
ary, had  come  all  the  long  journey  across  the  mountains  to 
carry  us  back  within  its  capacious  interior.  Our  passports 
and  our  safe  conduct  were  all  correctly  vised.  Our  Turkish 
guard,  the  soldier  who  was  to  protect  us  from  all  the  robbers 
and  dangers  in  the  way,  armed  cap-a-jrie,  was  to  meet  us  at 
Tarsus  next  day,  whence  we  should  set  out  for  our  long  over- 
land trip,  fraught  as  it  was  with  Unknown  dangers  and 
difficulties. 


CIIAI'TEU   XXVIII. 

A  REMARKA-BLE  JOURNEY  ACROSS  ASIA  MINOR  m  A  SPRING 
WAGON -THRILLING  EXPERIENCES  BY  THE  AVAY-A 
DANGEROUS  RIDE. 

An  Imposing  Cavalcade -Foolish  "Franks"_An  Arsenal  of  Archaic 
Weapons- Ali.  the  Turk- Anastas,  the  Errand  Boy- "Meat '- 
PHlor'T^  «c;'>c''y- Snowcapped  Lebanon -Eloquent  Ruins-Our 
Fellow    Travelers -Caravans    of    Can>els-The    Patient    Donkey- 

The  Motto  of  the  Spoons-The  Story  of  the  Dervish -The  Holy  Vss 
Dirt  St"  ";'  T  f  "^•^-^-^■">"^'  ^>^f  "-  -'Evil  Eye"--' You 
Tm   ev      \  T  Z^  f '''''""'  «=^l"^'^tion-The  Mother-in-Law  in 

luikcj  -A  Typical  Turkish  Khan -Sharing  a  Bed  witii  the  Camels 
-Through  the  Cilician  Gates-The  "Bad  Five  Miles"-Hou-  Ve 
S  Sehm.  ^""  "''"''  *'"  '"^"""'^  Mountains-In  the  Guest  Room 


T   was   a   bright  spring   morning 
when  we  set  out  from  Tarsus  for 
the  long  journey  across  the  Tau- 
rus   mountains    and     over    tiie 
plains    of    Asa    Minor    for    the 
beautiful    city    on    the    Golden 
Horn.     We  formed  quite  an  im- 
posing cavalcade  for  tliese  roads 
unaccustomed    to    wheeled    ve- 
hicles.    Tlio  camel  drivers  stared 
at  our  wagon,  the  donkey  boys 
pricked  up  their  ears  as  they  saw 
us  approaching,  and  gazed  at  us  until  we  had  disa])peared  in 
the    dim    distance,    wondering,    wo    suppose,    why    those 
•'Franks"  should  be  so  foolish  as  to  start  across  the^country 
in  wagons  when  they  could  so  mucli  more  easily  go  by  sea. 

(  525 ) 


-i 

)■ " 


il 


52G 


A  NATIVE   TRAVELING  OUTFIT. 


In  front  of  us  pranced  our  Turkish  soldier,  or  Zabtiyeh, 
who  had  made  himself  a  perfect  arsenal  of  obsolete  av capons. 
Then  came  the  two-horse  Avagon  into  which  Avas  packed  not 
only  our  three  selves  and  our  missionary  guide  and  driver, 
but  four  cot  beds  with  appropriate  bedding,  pillows,  blank- 
ets, and  coverlets  for  the  cool  nights,  and  a  huge  basketful 
of  provisions  which  our  kind  host  had  packed  for  us  with 
the  utmost  care,  and  which  was  supposed  to  be  enough, 
when  supplemented  by  occasional  draughts  on  native  stores 
by  the  way,  to  last  us  to  Caesarea,  six  days  distant. 

Following  this  wagoa  came  a  disreputable-looking  spring- 
less  cart  drawn  by  two  specimens  of  Turkish  horse  flesh, 
and  carrying  two  trunks  and  various  provisions  in  the  Avay 
of  bedding  and  provender  for  men  and  beasts.  The  driver 
and  owner  of  this  cart  was  a  native  who  wished  to  get  to 
Caesarea  and  who  was  glad  to  earn  a  few  chereks  on  the 
way. 

"With  him  was  our  faithful  servant  Ali,  a  character  in  his 
way,  shrewd,  kindly,  competent,  and  faithful  to  the  last  de- 
gree, a  man  who,  I  verily  believe,  Avould  lay  doAvn  his  life 
for  his  master  or  for  any  one  in  the  party  if  danger  came  in 
the  AA'-ay.  Nominal  Turk  though  he  AA^as,  his  allegiance  to 
the  false  prophet  evidently  sat  very  lightly  upon  him,  for  he 
always  appeared  at  prayers  morning  and  night,  and  seemed 
to  be  among  the  most  devout  AA'orshipers-  at  the  Protestant 
church  services  on  the  Avay.  To  avoAV  himself  a  convert  to 
Christianity  Avould  doubtless  baA^e  compelled  hhn  either  to 
forfeit  his  life  or  his  country.  His  courage  as  yet  Avas  not 
quite  equal  to  this  supreme  test,  though  I  have  no  doubt  that 
in  heart  he  AA'as  a  sincere  Christian. 

Together  Avith  Ali  and  the  driver  was  an  assistant,  a  sort 
of  general  errand-boy,  fire-builder,  Avood-carrier,  and  Avater- 
drawer,  named  Anastas.     He  had  run  aAvay  from  home 


"  MEAT,    MEAT." 


627 


,  a  sort 
water- 
home 


some  weeks  ])reviously,  but  was  now  heartily  sick  of  his  fool- 
ish adventure  and  was  quite  willing  to  work  his  passage 
back  to  Caesarea  once  more.  The  little  pilgrim  seemed  to 
liave  a  wonderful  attraction  for  him.  Anastas  could 
scarcely  keep  his  eyes  or  his  hands  off  him.  He  would  fol- 
low him  about  all  day  like  a  big,  good-natured  shepherd  dog. 
He  would  run  races  with  him  and  chase  hamsters  and  en- 
gage in  stone-flinging  matches,  and  every  now  and  then  he 
would  come  up  to  him  and  taking  his  hand  would  say  very 
impressively,  "  Meat,  meat."  For  a  long  time  we  could  not 
understand  the  significance  of  this  word,  until  it  was  at  last 
explained  to  us  that  he  thought  this  was  the  little  pilgrim's 
name,  as  he  had  heard  some  one  asking  him  to  pass  the  meat 
at  the  dinner  table.  Jumping  at  this  conclusion  from  such 
uncertain  premises  he  was  not  able  to  get  the  idea  out  of  his 
head  during  all  the  long  journey,  but  in  every  way  possible 
showed  his  interest  and  affection  in  his  little  friend  "  Meat." 
For  a  short  distance  from  Tarsus  we  were  escorted  by 
two  of  the  faithful  teachers  of  Saint  Paul's  institute  to 
which  I  have  before  alluded.  Then  they  turned  their  horses, 
bade  us  adieu,  and  galloped  back  to  Tarsus,  leaving  us  alone 
with  the  long  three-weeks  journey  before  us.  For  a  little 
way  out  of  Tarsus  the  road  is  tolerably  good  as  Turkish 
roads  go,  and  in  some  places  it  is  possible  for  horses  which 
are  fresh  and  ready  for  the  journey  to  trot  for  a  little  way. 
But  soon  the  hills  begin  and  the  roads  become  unuttersi  ly 
rough  and  rugged.  The  air,  however,  is  clear  and  bracing, 
our  spirits  are  good,  and  the  view  becomes  at  every  step 
more  entrancing.  As  we  look  back  we  see  the  fertile  plain 
of  Adana  stretched  before  us,  and  beyond  the  snow-capped 
mountains  of  Lebanon,  while  before  us,  rising  peak  on  peak, 
are  the  magnificent  heights  of  the  Taurus.  There  are  feAV 
more  magnificent  mountain  ranges  in  the  world  and  few  are 


-  4 


;) 


latii 


h 


528 


A   COUNTRY   OF   WONDERFUL   INTEREST. 


less  frequently  visited  iu  these  days  tluui  this  mighty  ninge 
which  forms  the  biickhone  of  Asia  Minor. 

In  ancient  times,  to  be  sure,  it  was  different.  The  com- 
merce of  a  good  part  of  the  Avorld  ^xjured  through  these 
rocky  defiles,  and  the  Cilician  Gate  through  which  we  shall 
soon  pass,  was  the  highway  f(^r  innumerable  caravans  of 
costly  goods,  for  armies,  and  for  travelers  of  all  degrees  and 
conditions  in  life. 

Across  these  mountains  traveled  the  Ai)ostle  Paul  more 
than  once.  This  same  wav  came  Cicero  and  other  lloman 
statesmen  scarcely  less  distinguished,  while  the  armies  of 
enii)erors  frequently  defiled  through  these  narrow  gorges. 

AVe  are  not  only  in  a  country  of  surjiassing  natural  beauty 
but  one  of  wonderful  historic  interest.  These  craggy  peaks 
and  hilltops,  if  they  could  speak,  would  a  tale  unfold  of  wars 
and  rumors  of  wars,  of  civilization  advancing  and  retrograd- 
ing, of  nations  waxing  and  waning,  of  armies  marching  and 
countermarching,  which  could  not  be  told  by  any  other 
mountain  peaks  in  the  world.  In  these  silent  fields  and  be- 
neath these  occasional  ruins  are,  doubtless,  buried  historical 
treasures  of  the  rarest  and  most  unique  interest.  I^ut  the 
oppressive  govei'nment  regulations  make  it  impossible  for 
any  arclueologist  to  dig  for  hidden  treasure,  and,  Avhile  the 
present  regime  lasts,  the  world  will  be  none  the  Aviser  con- 
cerning these  relics  of  the  past. 

The  fellow  travelers  whom  we  meet  or  pass  on  the  road 
are  all  of  one  description ;  no  hacks  or  four-in-hand  turn- 
outs do  we  see,  no  talb'-ho  coaches  or  gigs  or  buggies,  no 
bicycles  or  tricycles,  no  phaetons  or  landaus,  not  even  a 
baby  carriage  or  anything  else  on  wheels,  do  we  meet,  but 
long  processions  of  knock-kneed,  ragged  camels,  carrying, 
strapped  to  their  patient  backs,  and  dangling  on  either  side, 
a  heavy  load  of  some  five  or  six  hundred  pounds  in  Aveight, 


mge 


coin- 
:hese 
sluill 
IS    of 
s  luul 

more 

Loinaii 

lies  of 

ves. 

beauty 

'  peaks 

)i  wars 

rograd- 

ng  aiul 
other 
mcl  be- 
storical 
3ut  the 
i\)le  for 
iiile  the 
er  con- 

[he  road 
nl  turn- 
[•jiies,  no 
even  a 
leet,  but 
Jarrying, 
her  side, 
weight, 


CARAVANS  OF  KNOCK-KNEED  CAMELS. 


529 


which,  for  many  weary  days,  they  must  bear  as  they  go 
swaying  and  stumbling  across  the  country  from  sea  to  sea. 

These  camels  are  very  rarely  met  with  singly,  but  usu- 
ally in  caravans  of  from  ten  to  one  hundred,  loosely  tied 
together  by  a  string  or  small  rope  which  can  easily  be- 
broken,  so  that  in  case  one  of  the  camels  wanders  out  of  the 


■Jl iTuMyyi   "^ I  '.11  n_       _   _ ^^  ^      .  -    r^'^^'-  -  -^^ 


A   SHIP   OF   THE   DKSKHT. 


line  or  falls  over  a  precipice,  the  Avhole  caravan  may  not  go 

with  him. 

Usually  preceding  the  camels  and  leading  the  wliole  train 

by  a  chain  attached  to  his  bridle,  is  an  absurdly  diminutive 

donkey  on  whose  back  is  often  perched  a  very  large  Turk, 

whose  huge  feet  (they  all  seem  to  wear  number  eighteen  in 

this  country)  sway  liack  and  forth  and  dig  viciously  into  the 

sides  of  the  little  beast  with  every  step  he  takes. 

One  is  never  tired  of  these  strange  processions  of  men  and 
33 


530 


TURKISH   GREETINGS. 


t 


ii 


• 


i 


variously  assorted  beasts.  It  always  seems  to  us  as  if  the 
huge  camel  would  be  ashamed  of  the  long-eared  little  guide 
which  leads  the  way,  and  as  though  the  look  of  supercilious 
scorn  Avhicli  he  always  wears,  Avas  assumed  to  show  his  in- 
'  difference  to  the  indignities  that  are  heaped  upon  him. 

Our  fellow  travelers,  however,  Ave  find  are  by  no  means 
destitute  of  politeness  or  cordiality.  In  fact,  they  could  give 
many  points  to  the  boors  of  our  crowded  modern  thorough- 
fares in  the  way  of  gentle  coui'tesy  on  the  road.  Almost 
everv  camel  driver  and  donkev  bov  whom  Ave  i)ass  nudces  a 
kindly  bow  to  us,  and  cries  out  as  Ave  get  within  earshot, 
"  Oughourlar  olsoun,"  Avhicli  means  Avhen  translated,  "  xV 
pleasant  journey  to  you."  If  Ave  are  suiiiciently  up  in  our 
Turkish  to  respond  in  a  ])ro])er  numner,  avc  shall  reply  to 
him,  "  Sagli  olsoiin,"  Avhereby  Ave  mean  to  say,  '"  Long  life  to 
you  my  friend." 

These  greetings  Avhicli  one  receiA'es  upon  the  Avay  in 
Turkey,  and  in  every  house  Avhich  he  enters,  at  every  table 
at  Avliich  he  sits,  and  on  all  possible  occasions,  are  exceed- 
ingly pleasant  and  shoAV  an  inbred  courtesy  Avhich  speaks 
Avell  for  the  fundamental  character  of  the  race  Avhicli  has 
coined  and  adopted  them  as  a  part  of  its  common  verbal  cur- 
rency. For  instance,  Avlien  Ave  enter  a  Turkish  house  Ave  are 
often  greeted  by  this  kindly  phrase,  "  Khouda  el  inden 
yapusha,"  Avhich,  being  inter})reted,  means,  "  May  the 
Almighty  cling  to  your  hand,"  a  most  beautiful  Avay  of  ex- 
])ressing  greeting  and  good  Avill  and  continued  blessing. 
The  resjionse  very  often  is,  "  Akubetin  Khair  olsoun,"  Avhich 
means,  "■  ^lay  your  end  be  good,"  or,  in  other  Avords,  as 
every  Mohammedan  interprets  it  in  his  OAvn  mind,  "  May 
you  become  a  good  IMoslem  before  you  die."  "When  one 
rises  from  the  tal)le  Avliere  he  has  partaken  of  all  the  good 
things  Avhicli  his  host  can  offer,  if  he  is  versed  in  Turkish 


ORIENTAL   POLITENESS. 


531 


if  the 
niiicle 
[lilious 
liis  in- 


means 
1(1  give 
)rongU- 
Alinost 
nukes  a 
eavsliot, 
eel,   "A 
)  in  our 
reply  to 
\g  life  to 

way  in 
;ry  table 

exceed- 
H  speaks 
iiich  has 
H-bal  cur- 
ie we  ai'e 
|el  inden 
^lav    the 

ly  of  ex- 

1  blessing. 

which 

'ords,  as 

^1,  "May 
hen  one 

[the  good 
Turkish 


politeness  he  will  sa}',  "  Berekot  versin,"  "  Let  it  give  a  bless- 


ing. 


"When  we  receive  a  present,  hoAvever  slight  it  may  be,  the 
recipient  says,  "  Elenize  dagh  Ink  "  whicli  is  not  our  meagi'e, 
conventional  "  Thank  you,"  but  is  a  poetic  ex})ression  mean- 
ing, "  Health  to  your  hands,  my  dear  sir." 

For  special  and  peculiar  services  there  are  special  and  jie- 
culiar  expressions  of  ap})reciation  and  thanks,  and  not  one 


^«Fn^^ 


■■';  f. .■■_■■<-""■'•"• -•v.V'r^"  >v  ''■-•■..'■*  y^rt  •'"-i-/.  ■.-.?".        •>-  .  "v.  vi-  ^    , 


NATIVE    KIIUUDS  OF   ASIA    MINOK. 


unvarying  meaningless  formula,  as  in  Western  languages. 
For  instance,  when  a  Turk  receives  a  drink  from  a  friend  of 
anything  but  coffee,  he  remarks  as  he  hands  back  the  empty 
cup,  "  Afiyet  olsoun,"  by  which  he  means  to  say,  "  May  it  be 
for  your  health."  AYIiy  he  does  not  make  this  same  response 
when  treated  to  coflPee  I  have  never  yet  been  able  to  under- 
stand. 

Even  the  wooden  spoons  with  which  Ave  dip  into  the  com- 
mon bowl  Avliich  always  graces  the  center  of  the  Turkish 
dinner  table,  are  decorated  Avith  a  motto  of  hospitality  and 


14 


I 


*'. 


r 


i 


533 


A  GOOD  STORY. 


good  clieer,  such  as,  "  Eat,  my  friend,  eat,"  or  "  Pardon  our 
poor  fare  and  call  it  not  entirely  tasteless."  Or,  })erhaps  it 
may  be,  "  Consider  not  the  jjoor  food  which  is  set  before 
you,  but  the  spirit  in  which  it  is  given." 

As  we  journey  along,  we  frequently  see  by  the  roadside 
a  scrubby  tree,  from  every  branch  and  twig  of  which  flut- 
ters a  rag.  Some  of  the  rags  are  bleached  and  Aveather- 
beaten,  and  have  evidently  been  tied  to  the  tree  for  many  a 
long  day,  while  others  look  as  though  they  had  been  just 
•  attached.  These  trees  mark  the  sacred  spot  where  the  grave 
of  some  holy  man  is  supposed  to  be,  and  every  pilgrim  Avho 
passes  that  way  ties  a  new  rag  to  the  tree  to  propitiate  the 
saint  buried  beneath,  and  to  insure  for  himself  a  speedier 
entrance  into  heaven. 

The  old  dervishes  frequently  make  a  very  good  living  by 
establishing  themselves  near  one  of  these  trees,  and  asking 
alms  of  all  who  pass  by. 

A  good  story  is  told  of  a  poor  old  dervish  who  lost  all 
his  Avorldly  goods,  and  set  out  on  a  new  pilgrimage  with  his 
family  and  his  faithful  donkey.  For  a  time  they  lived  in 
great  poverty,  but  in  the  course  of  a  few  years  a  new-made 
grave  under  a  spreading  tree  by  -which  the  dervish  had  en- 
camped, obtained  a  great  reputation  for  sanctity.  Many 
were  the  pilgrims  Avho  resorted  hither.  Many  were  the  dis- 
eases that  were  healed,  and  the  good  fortunes  that  were  told 
beside  that  holy  grave.  The  tree  became  decorated  with  all 
sorts  and  sizes  and  colors  of  rags,  for  most  of  the  pilgrims 
who  ])ass  that  Avay  are  clad  in  an  abundant  supjily  of  tat- 
tered and  filthy  garments.  The  old  dervish  became  pros- 
perous and  Avaxed  fat,  but  after  a  Avhile  his  son  became  un- 
easy and  dissatisfied  Avith  the  Avay  he  AA^as  living,  so  he 
started  out  for  himself  to  make  his  oAvn  fortune  in  the  AA'orld. 
Thinking  there  Avas  no  easier  Avay  than  that  Avliich  his  father 


1 

il: 


EMBLEMS   OF  GOOD   LUCK. 


533 


OUV 

ps  it 
jfore 


dside 
tlut- 
ither- 
any  a 
a  just 
grave 
a  who 
ite  the 
peedier 

ang  by 
asking 

lost  all 
vith  his 
ived  in 
|w-made 
had  en- 
Many 
the  dis- 
ere  told 
lAvith  all 
pilgrims 
of  tat- 
le  pros- 
;ame  nn- 
T,  so  he 
,e  worhl. 
lis  father 


had  pointed  out,  ho  estal)lished  a  lioly  place  of  liis  own  not 
far  off,  and  seated  himself  by  another  grave  uniler  another 
green  tree. 

So  popular  did  this  new  resort  become  that  the  ohl 
dervish's  po})ularity  began  to  wane,  so  he  went  to  visit  his 
son,  and,  when  he  found  him,  he  asked  him  the  cause  of  his 
sudden  popularity.  "  "Well,"  said  the  youth  who  hail  bettered 
his  father's  instructions,  '"  you  tell  me  who  is  buried  in  your 
holy  grave  and  I  will  tell  you  who  is  buried  in  mine."  ''  My 
old  donkey  died,"  frankly  confessed  the  father.  "  I  mourned 
over  her  and  buried  her  under  the  green  tree.  People  came 
to  worship  at  the  new-made  grave,  and  it  was  not  my  busi- 
ness to  tell  them  who  was  buried  there  since  they  received 
so  much  benelit  from  their  pilgrimage.  And  nmv  tell  me, 
my  son,  who  occupies  the  grave  over  which  you  keep  watch?" 
"  Ah,"  answered  the  cliii)  of  the  old  block,  "  I  followed  your 
example,  and  in  my  grave  is  buried  the  foal  of  your  ass." 

This  story,  which  is  told  with  great  gusto  in  different 
parts  of  Turkey  just  as  the  tales  accredited  to  Abraham 
Lincoln  are  heard  in  all  parts  of  America,  illustrates  the 
superstitious  ignorance  of  the  common  people.  In  a  hundred 
other  ways  are  these  superstitions  manifest.  Every  camel 
and  donkey  that  we  meet  has  upon  his  neck  a  string  of  blue 
glass  beads,  Avhich  are  supposed  to  keep  off  the  "  evil  eye," 
and  no  camel  driver  Avould  think  for  a  moment  of  leaving 
home  without  decorating  every  animal  in  his  caravan  with 
these  emblems  of  good  luck. 

Yery  often  mothers  are  seen  slapjiing  their  children  in  a 
most  vicious  way,  and  calling  them  "ugly  brutes,"  and 
"dirty  brats,"  and  all  kinds  of  opprobrious  names.  "We 
soon  find,  however,  that  this  shows  no  lack  of  maternal 
affection,  but  is  simply  the  mother's  way  of  warding  off  evil 
and  blight  from  the  child.     She  thinks  that  if  the  evil  spirits 


n 


I  'I 


634 


INDIGNITIES   BORNE  BY   TURKISH   WOMEN. 


'  ) 


hear  her  disparage  lier  child  and  call  him  an  "  ugly  brute," 

they  will  not  think  it  worth  while  to  trouble  him,  and  so  tlie 

evil  eye  will  be  averted. 

But,  at  the  best,  women  and  children  in  this  land,  as  in 

all  heathen  and  semi-heathen  lands,  have  a  hard  time.     The 

Avomen  are  looked  upon  as 
beasts  of  burden.  Doubt  is  of- 
ten expressed  as  to  whether  or 
not  they  really  have  souls,  and 
even  by  the  most  enlightened 
Turk  their  souls  are  not  sup- 
])osed  to  be  of  the  same  dimen- 
sions as  those  of  their  husbands 
and  brothers  and  so.ns.  JS^o  ac- 
count is  taken  of  the  girls  by 
,^    many  men  when  they  reckon 


up  their  families,  and  the  mise- 
ries of  a  bride  in  a  Turkish 
house  are  often  unutterable. 
Abused  and  despised,  beaten 
and  forsaken,  with  no  redress 
and  no  opportunity  to  tell  her 
woes,  she  can  only  gain  com- 
fort from  the  thought  that  some- 
time she  will  be  a  mother-in- 
law  herself,  and  can  take  it 
out  in  abusing  her  daughter- 
in-law  to  her  heart's  content,  just  as  freshmen,  Avhen  they  are 
harrowetl  and  hazed,  put  under  the  pump,  and  initiated  into 
the  iiorrors  of  the  secret  society,  comfort  themselves  with  the 
thought  that  next  year  they  will  be  so[)homores,  and  there 
will  be  another  class  of  freshmen  for  them  to  haze. 

It  must  not  be  thought  that  we  make  any  remarkable 


A   8YKIAN   POTTLTHY   SKI.LEH. 


ate," 
u  the 


as  in 
The 

n    us 
is  of- 

aer  or 

s,  and 

itened 

»t  sup- 

linien- 

sbands 

No  ac- 

h'ls  by 

reckon 

e  mise- 

Cui'kish 

terable. 
])eaten 
edress 

tell  her 
n  com- 
it  some- 
)ther-in- 
take   it 
lughtcr- 
they  are 
Ited  into 
'ith  the 
\d  there 


IN   A  TURKISH   GRAVE-YARD. 


535 


lar 


■kable 


speed  in  this  journey  across  the  Taurus  mountains.  "We  are 
not  tryin*^  to  solve  the  problem  of  ra})i(l  transit,  and  an 
average  of  three  miles  an  hour,  and  of  from  tiiirty  to  thirty- 
five  miles  a  day  we  consider  very  good  traveling. 

The  first  day  out  from  Tarsus  Ave  stop[)ed  at  a  place 
which  rejoiced  in  the  eu[)lioni<)us  name  of  "  Grave  Yard 
Spout,"  and,  in  spite  of  its  name,  it  was  one  of  the  pleasantest 
places  where  we  made  our  camp  in  all  the  journey. 

Let  me  introduce  you  to  this  tj^pical  Turkish  khan  at 
"Grave  Yard  Spout."  "We  have  not  yet  reached  the  old 
Cilician  Gates,  but  have  been  climbing  tlie  slopes  of  the 
Taurus  mountains  all  day  long,  and  by  nightfall  are  well  U[> 
toward  the  line  of  everlasting  snow.  From  these  limitless 
snow  fields  the  brooks  of  sparkling  Avater  come  dancing 
down.  Their  narro»7  channels  down  the  steep  mountain 
sides  have  something  the  ai)pearance  of  eaves-troughs  on  a 
house,  hence  the  "  spout."  On  one  side  of  the  hill  Avhere  Ave 
are  to  spend  the  night  are  a  number  of  Tui-kish  gra\'es  Avith 
rude,  unhewn  stones  set  up  to  nuirk  the  last  resting  place  of 
the  Moslem,  hence  the  "  grave-yard."  A  low,  stone  building 
on  one  side  of  the  road,  mostly  Ijuried  out  of  sight  on  its 
lower  side  by  huge  piles  of  rubbish  and  numure,  indicates 
the  spot  AAdiere  Ave  are  to  spend  the  night.  Into  the  open 
doorway  camels  and  donkeys,  horses,  drivers,  and  ])ilgriius 
all  enter,  for  the  Tui'k  believes  that  Avhat  is  good  en(jugh  for 
his  beast  is  good  enough  for  him,  and  he  never  begrudges 
his  OAAm  quarters  to  his  jxitient  camel  or  faithful  ass. 

However,  there  is  one  room  divided  by  a  slight  board 
partition  from  the  rest  of  tiie  khan,  and  into  this  the  more 
fastidious  pilgi'ims  are  allowed  to  go  to  spend  the  night.  To 
be  sure,  it  is  a  iilthy  ])lace  almost  beyond  description,  and 
swarming  Avith  vermin.  It  has  not  been  Avashed  since  the 
day  the  khan  avus  l)uilt,  and,  perhaps,  has  not  been  swept  out 


536 


ROUGHING    IT. 


I 


for  a  \ear.  But  it  is  the  best  place  wliich  the  region  affords, 
and  we  will  not  grumble.  Besides,  have  we  not^  cot  beds 
which  can  be  set  up  out  of  the  way  of  the  dirt  and  largely 
out  of  the  way  of  the  fleas  as  well?  Have  we  not  clean 
sheets  and  bedspreads,  and  a  good  supply  of  wholesome 
provisions  of  our  own  {  Then  what  more  can  we  ask,  with 
fresh  and  mvigorating  mountain  air  to  breathe,  sparkling 
cold  Avater  in  which  to  bathe,  and  all  out-doors  in  which  to 
exercise?  Appetite  lends  a  splendid  sauce  to  every  meal, 
and  this  bread  and  cheese,  these  eggs  which  Ali  boils  in  the 
fireplace,  and  the  pilaff  which  he  concocts  with  rice  and 
other  ingredients,  though  mysterious,  are  most  toothsome 
and  nourishing.  So  we  eat  our  evening  meal,  say  our  even- 
ing prayer  of  thanksgiving  and  petition  for  protection,  and 
lie  down  to  })leasanter  dreams  than  any  surfeited  millionaire 
ever  enjoyed. 

In  the  morning  we  are  up  betimes,  sometimes  long  before 
daylight,  for  the  success  of  the  day's  journey  depends  upon 
getting  a  good  start.  By  the  light  of  the  gray  dawn  we 
drink  our  morning  coffee,  tie  up  our  beds  and  bedding,  pack 
the  wagons,  harness  the  horses,  and  are  off  just  as  the  rising 
sun  illuminates  the  frosty  mountain  peaks,  and  turns  the 
descending  rivulets  into  ropes  of  sparkling  diamonds. 

About  noon  we  stop  for  a  hasty  midday  meal,  and  then 
press  on  again  in  order  to  reach  the  khan  where  Ave  are  to 
spend  tlie  night  before  sundoAvn,  Avhere  the  same  process  of 
unpacking  and  setting  u]>  the  beds,  getting  supper  and  eat- 
ing it,  going  to  bed  and  getting  up  in  the  morning,  repack- 
ing and  starting  on  our  journey,  is  repeated  day  after  day 
until  the  journey  ends. 

The  second  day  out  Ave  came  to  the  Cilician  Gates, 
and  here  culminates  tlie  magnificent  scenery  Avhicli  has 
been  growing  grander  and  grander  Avith  every  passing  mile. 


rds, 
jeds 

geiy 

ilean 
;ome 
with 
kling 
3h  to 
meal, 
n  the 
3  and 
lisome 
'  even- 
n,  and 
lonaire 

before 
s  upon 
wn  we 
pack 
rising 
i-ns  the 

id  then 
are  to 


THROUGH  THE  CILICIAN  GATES. 


537 


bcess 


of 


Ind  eat- 


Irep 


[ick- 


ter  day 


Gates, 
Ich    has 
\ff  mile. 


Here  is  a  narrow  gorge  between  two  towering  ])recipitous 
cliffs  which  stretch  up,  up,  up,  for  hundreds  of  feet  above  us 
on  either  side.  There  is  absolutely  no  other  way  of  crossing 
the  mountain  except  at  this  point.  Here,  beyond  a  question, 
we  are  on  historic  ground.  Paul  must  have  come  through 
this  very  gorge  in  the  mountains.  This  old  Iloman  road 
over  which  we  are  traveling  was  here  in  his  time,  probably  a 
far  better  road  than  it  is  to-day ;  this  soil  and  these  stones 
his  feet  must  have  pressed,  and  for  the  monarchs  and  am- 
bassadors, the  conquered  and  conquering  armies,  the  mer- 
chants and  the  diplomats  of  many  centuries,  tliis  has  been 
the  highway. 

Just  as  we  went  through  the  Cilician  Gates,  where  the 
pathway  is  most  narrow  and  precipitous,  for  a  rushing  tor- 
rent disputes  the  roadway  for  passage,  we  met  a  long  train 
of  at  least  a  hundred  camels,  floundering  over  the  rugged 
road  and  through  the  muddy  slouch.  It  seemed  as  thouo-h 
our  wagon  could  never  make  its  way  past  these  "ships  of 
the  desert,"  but  we  had  learned  by  this  time  to  have  un- 
bounded faith  in  our  missionary  guide,  and,  sure  enough, 
without  accident  or  serious  delay  we  forded  the  stream, 
Avallowed  through  the  mire,  climbed  the  banks,  brushed  the 
flanks  of  the  startled  camels,  and  at  length  were  through  the 
historic  mountain  gorge,  and  had  passed  out  of  old  Cilicia 
into  Cai)padocia. 

The  third  day  out  from  Tarsus  was  the  most  exciting 
and  dangerous  part  of  the  journey.  For  a  little  Avays  after 
we  left  the  khan,  where  we  spent  the  niglit,  a  good  road  en- 
abled us  to  get  on  at  a  brisk  pace  and  cheered  us  with  the 
illusive  liope  that  our  worst  difficulties  were  over ;  but  alas ! 
this  piece  of  good  road  was  only  the  j)leasant  prelude  to  the 
very  worst  piece  of  roadway  to  be  found  in  any  one  of  the 
five  continents  which  we  are  visiting.    For  Ave  miles  tl's 


I'  ' 


538 


AN   EXCITINU   AND   DANGEROUS   RIDE. 


!'5 

i  ii 


.;i 


H: 


i^ 


road  is  siiii[)ly  indescribable.  No  one  who  lias  made  this 
journey  couul  [jossiljly  believe  that  a  wagon  could  ever  be 
transported  over  it,  or  that  horses  or  drivcjrs  could  live  to  tell 
the  tale  on  the  other  side  of  "the  bad  ])lace,"  as  it  is  signiii- 
cantly  called  by  all  in  this  region. 

In  fact,  there  is  no  road  at  all.  The  government  has  not 
even  ])retended  to  make  a  road  here  as  it  has  in  some  })laces. 
It  does  not  degenerate  into  a  s(juirrcl  track  and  run  up  a 
tree,  simjjly  because  there  is  no  tree  for  it  to  run  up,  for  the 
country  is  as  bare  as  the  desert  of  Sahara.  This  bad  five 
miles  takes  us  over  the  veiy  j)eak  of  the  Taurus  mountains, 
antl  the  only  animals  which  with  any  degree  of  safety  can 
make  this  joui-ney  are  the  sure-footed  camels  and  donkeys 
who  mono})olize  the  trade  (jf  this  district.  Even  they  some- 
times lose  theii"  footing  and  roll  down  the  steep  mountain- 
side into  the  abyss  below,  where  Ave  saw  the  carcass  of  moi'e 
than  one  animal  which  had  thus  met  its  death. 

In  the  coui'se  of  the  centuries  the  unceasing  caravans  of 
camels  have  made  a  track  along  which,  with  careful  steering 
and  Avith  abundant  providential  care,  a  wagon  can  sometimes 
make  its  way.  We  know  this  because  we  have  seen  a 
wagon  go  over  this  trail.  On  no  account  could  we  other- 
Avise  have  believed  it  possible,  but  seeing  is  believing  in  the 
Taurus  mountains  as  Avell  as  cveryAvhere  else. 

When  we  Avent  down  the  hill  on  the  other  side  of  the 
"bad  live  miles,"  all  the  male  members  of  the  party  hung  on 
to  the  tail-board  of  the  wagon  to  prevent  it  from  tumbling 
end  over  end  over  the  heads  (jf  the  horses.  Sometimes  the 
rickety  Avagon  Avould  sway  ])erilously  on  the  verge  of  a 
rocky  precipice.  Often  we  would  think  that  it  Avas  actually 
going  over,  and  Avould  catch  our  breath  as  Ave  ex))ected  to 
see  Avagon,  Ikji'scs,  and  driver  tumble  into  the  terrible  abyss. 
Then  the  di'iver  Avould  throw  himself  from  side  to  side  of  the 


io  this 
ver  be 
to  tell 
si^nili- 

liiis  not 

places, 
m  up  a 

for  the 
)acl  live 
luntains, 
fety  can 
donkeys 
ey  sonie- 
lountain- 
i  oi  more 

i-avans  of 
steering 
)inetinies 
}  seen  a 
yc  otlier- 
mg  iu  the 

dc  of  the 
hung  on 

tumbling 
kimes  the 

M'ii'c  of  a 
[s  actually 

:pected  to 

ble  abyss. 

Lide  of  the 


|;^<&S?:*\^ 


-*^^*V'=-' 


AN  i:x(  ri'iNii  mi)Mi:nt    on;  kidk  ackoss  'rrnKKV  in  a  \va(;on. 

Siiiiii'l  Mill's  tile  liiUciy  \viit.'iiii  wdiiM  Kw;iy  pcrildiisly  on  llic  vtTL'i'  <if  a  rocky  prrciplco. 
Ol'Irii  wi'  would  ihiiiU  lli;it  il  vviis  iictiiully  L'oiiii;  over,  iiikI  woiilil  iiilch  (iiir  liirMlli  iih  we 
('X|icrii'i|  Id  SIT  uiiL'iin.  liiirsi's.  mill  iliivrf  liiiiilili'  inlo  llii'  li'i'rilili'  iiliyss.  'I'ln'ii  the  ilrivor 
woillil  llivou  liiliisrlf  from  siili'  In  side  ill'  llii'  u,-IL'iiM  Io  kri'p  il  fliilil  lopplill'^  ovrr,  illlil  iho 
ri'wl  111'  IIS  wiiiilil  lliniu  mil'  wriirlil  on  llliil  side  to  picvrlil  llli'  lliri'iilriird  ciitasli'opliu. 


11 


«]'; 


i;i 


I 


I'i 


ON   THE   VERGE   OF   DESTRUCTION.  541 

wagon  to  keep  it  from  toppling  over,  and  the  rest  of  us 
would  throw  our  weight  on  that  side  to  prev^ent  the  threat- 
ened catastrophe.  Tiius  Ave  made  our  way  down  the  peril- 
ous mountain  side  and  drew  a  long  hreatli  when  we  found 
we  were  in  the  valley  and  realized  that  the  worst  of  our 
journey  was  behind  us. 

To  be  sure,  it  was  only  comparatively  speaking  that  we 
could  find  any  betterment  in  the  road  as  we  went  farther  on, 
for  oftentimes,  sometimes  twenty  times  a  day,  we  were 
obliged  to  get  out  of  the  Avagon  when  the  careful  driver 
took  it  around  some  narrow,  precipitous  cavern,  or  drove 
over  a  heap  of  stones  and  boulders  Avhich  had  slid  doAvn 
from  the  mountain  side,  or  forded^  a  shallow  stream  Avhich 
sometimes  almost  carried  the  horses  off  their  feet.  Forty 
times  a  day  Ave  Avould  throAV  our  Aveight  on  the  up-hill  side 
to  prevent  the  Avagon  from  going  over  the  bank,  or  stand  on 
the  step  for  half  a  mile  at  a  time  to  counterbalance  in  some 
degree  the  attractions  of  gravitation  on  the  other  side. 

But  after  passing  this  last  spur  of  the  Taurus  mountains 
Ave  never  thought  of  com])laining  of  any  piece  of  road, 
nor  do  Ave  ever  expect  to  complain  again,  Avhatever  higlnvays 
fate  may  have  in  store  for  us.  Toward  dark  of  the  fourth 
day  out  from  Tarsus,  Ave  came  to  the  little  village  Baila, 
and  as  the  khan  Avas  full  of  other  guests  Ave  sought  for 
shelter  in  the  guest-room  of  Selim,  the  elder  and  priest  of  the 
village.  Let  not  the  idea  of  a  "guest-room,"  my  readers, 
call  up  any  luxurious  notions  of  downy  beds  and  costly  car- 
pets and  furniture,  for  thouirh  this  guest-room  AA'as  the  best 
the  village  afforded,  theic  is  no  New  England  cellar  or 
Yankee  coal  bin  Avhich  it  Avas  CA'er  our  fortune  to  inspect, 
that  we  should  not  liaA'e  preferred  to  occupy. 

Fortunately  the  room  is  dark,  and  the  narrow  slits 
Avhich  serve  as  Avindows  are  covered  with  newspapers  Avhick 


542 


A  FILTHY  AND  HORRIBLE   PLACE. 


IV 


are  pasted  over  them,  so  that  wo  cannot  see  the  lilthiness  of 
the  place  in  all  its  hideousness.  We  do  not  wish  for  more 
light,  and  after  getting  supper  and  setting  up  our  beds  we 
turn  in,  to  sleep  the  sleep  of  the  weary. 

This  typical  Turkish  village  where  we  have  come  to 
spend  the  night  is  like  hundreds  and  thousands  of  others 
scattered  all  over  the  Empire.  Perhaps  there  are  two  hun- 
dred people  within  its  borders,  crowded  together  in  little 
huts  of  stone,  which  are  but  little  higher  than  a  tall  man. 
The  roofs  are  flat  and  covered  with  dirt,  which  does  verv 
well  as  a  roofing  in  dry  weather,  but  becomes  very  filthy 
and  leaky  Avhen  a  wet  season  sets  in. 

There  are  no  streets  in  the  village  except  such  as  are 
made  by  the  pathways  between  the  houses,  and  these  path- 
ways are  often  full  of  pitfalls  into  which  the  unwary  traveler 
will  stumble  if  he  is  not  careful.  In  these  pits  are  store  '  in 
winter  the  hay  on  which  the  goats  and  cattle  live  during  the 
cold  weather.  In  the  springtime  they  are  mostly  empty,  for 
the  store  has  been  exhausted,  and  very  frequently  at  the 
bottom  of  them  I  saw  dead  goats  and  sheep,  Avhich  during 
the  early  spring  had  probal)ly  starved  to  death  and  which 
the  unenterprising  inhabitants  had  not  even  carried  out  of 
the  roadway,  but  had  left  to  rot  and  pollute  the  air,  and 
breed  pestilence  and  disease  in  their  very  streets. 

Could  anything  be  more  depressing  than  life  in  these 
wretched  villages?  Here  are  no  books,  no  newspapers,  no 
meetings,  no  intellectual  life  of  any  kind.  Few  of  the 
houses  show  any  light  through  their  paper  windows  after 
darkness  sets  in.  The  inhabitants  have  nothing  to  do  but 
to  herd  their  goats  all  day  and  go  to  bed  when  darkness 
comes.  Ko  wonder  that  the  people  grow  up  ignorant  and 
debased  and  absolutely  devoid  of  ambition.  The  only 
wonder  is  that  thev  are  not  more  vicious  than  thev  are,  and 


AN  IGNORANT  AND  DEBASED  PEOPLE. 


543 


in 


and 

these 
leis,  no 
lof  the 
h  after 
do  but 
larkness 
Lnt  and 
le  only 
Ire,  and 


that  after  these  centuries  of  intellectual  torpidity  and  gov- 
ernmental oppression  there  is  anything  of  manliness  to 
appeal  to  in  their  natures. 

And  yet,  that  there  is  a  natural  substratum  of  generosity 
and  nobility  in  the  Turkish  character  cannot  be  denied.  It 
can  be  accounted  for  very  largely,  I  think,  by  the  good 


MUSSULMAN  AT   PRAYER. 


features  of  their  religion,  for,  mixed  with  superstition  and 
imposture  us  the  faith  of  Mohammed  is,  there  is  something 
in  it  of  strength  and  virility.  It  demands  unciuestioning 
obedience  and  outspoken  allegiance  from  all  who  profess  to 
be  governed  by  it.  No  Mohammedan  is  ashamed  of  his 
faith.  Our  soldier  guard,  who  always  accompanies  us,  when 
the  hour  of  prayer  comes  will  dismount  from  his  horse  and 
prostrate  himself   towards  Mecca,  by  the  roadside,  or  will 


'^n 


044 


DEVOUT  MOHAMMEDANS. 


4 

1 


even  go  to  the  top  of  the  liouse  to  pray  when  we  are  resting 
at  noon,  no  matter  Jiow  many  pairs  of  curious  eyes  are  upon 
him.  Many  and  many  a  time  liave  I  seen  a  camel  driver, 
poor,  untutored  man  that  he  is,  but  confident  of  liis  faitli  in 
God  and  in  the  great  prophet,  kneeling  in  the  grass  by  the 
wayside,  while  his  tethered  camels  browse  near  by,  offering 

his  prayer  to  the  great  God, 
with  no  fear  of  ridicule  to  re- 
strain him  from  his  oft-re])eated 
devotion. 

As  we  lie  down  to  rest  in 
the  guest  cliamber  of  the  elder 
of  Baila  we  hear  the  musical 
voice  of  the  muezzin  fioatina: 
from  the  humble  minaret  near 
by,  calling  out  to  all  the  faith- 
ful, "  God  is  great,  God  is  great. 
There  is  one  God  and  Moham- 
,  med  is  his  prophet.  Come  to 
[)rayer,  come  to  prayer." 

As  these  sounds  strike  our 
drowsy  ears  we  learn  the  secret 
of  the  vitality  of  the  Turkish 
nation  and  the  IMohammedan  religion.  There  is  truth 
enough  in  it  to  keej)  it  sweet  and  from  going  to  utter  decay. 
There  is  truth  enough  within  it  to  maintain  in  the  nation 
the  germs  of  a  resolute,  uncompromising  manhood,  and,  as 
we  drop  off  into  the  land  of  Kod,  a  new  hope  springs  up 
in  our  hearts  for  Turkey  and  the  Turks,  as  tlie  cry  of  the 
dervish  mingles  with  our  dreams,  "God  is  great,  God  is 
great.    Come  to  prayer,  come  to  prayer." 


THE  CALL  OF  THE   MUEZZIN. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


ON  TO  THE  GOLDEX  HORX-COXTrvr  VTm.r 

ViSilES- VEILED  WOMEN  o"TUKit|^^    "OWLIXG    DEIi- 
Watched  by  a   Curious  Crowd— A    Tl,-,  i.      ir 

Kamidan- Waking   Up   to   kt-T'    T    r         «"t'»  -  The  Feast  of 

Thread  and  a  Wldtt.-k>ssOncials-\S^^^^^^^^^^^     "J^c"""  '^  ^^'-'^ 
-Carving  Tp  Turkey- Angora  C. 7/^  \  ""'^  '^'"«'"''  '^'^'key 

'•^  Haihvay  Train -D^a^U^  ^^ ^VT'''.  ^'''-^^^ -  Tying  Up 
College -St.  Sophia,  the  Marvel o  s  ''^j„^""'*^"f  "'"P^^- A  Fan.ous 
-The  Covere,l  Facx.-TJ.c  61X77  \  ."*':"'''  "^  ''"^  ^''""I'^l^ 
'^SweatingCV,lu„n.''-T]e  AvSt  T)  "  ,"'  '''"  f'<'»^l"^''-or-The 
Trea.ling  on  the  Babies  - 1  si  f.^''""^'''''^^- ""^'  They  Whirl- 
to  Moscjue-Sanding  the  litd- "^^r  t""''';T"""'  '^''  '^'"^"»  Goes 
Wives    and    Dauglfters-  A    Tint    IV,:   "'\f f"^^^  «>"<-^'« 

Jewe^-BeautifulBroussa-^rUrouln^rt  S:  "^    ^"^^^^ 

>0R  thirteen  days  our  journey  across 
Asia  Minor  was,  with  certain  vari- 
ations, a  repetition  of  tlie  days  I 
liave  already  described.     An  early 
start,  a  long  ride  of  ten  or  tweive 
iiours,  a  hasty  midday  meal  often 
eaten  in  the   wagon,  and,  about 
night-fall,  a  new  setting-up  of  our 
movable  household  gods   in   still 
another     Turkish     khan     which 
always  seemed  a  shade  dirtier  and 

riiere  were,  ho,vever,  some    noticeable  breaks'  in    „nr 

CtTCaft  ™"  ""  •'«"—•'■>  sconce     On  h 
tourth  day,  after  passing  over  an  immense  plain,  guarded  on 

(545) 


646 


WATCHED  BY   A  CURIOUS  CROWD. 


all  sides  by  snou'-ca])ped  mountains,  wo  canio  to  the  ancient 
city  of  Tyana,  wliich,  in  former  centuries,  was  a  most  nota- 
ble place.  Here  a  fine  old  Roman  aqueduct  brought  deli- 
cious, sj)arkling  water  from  the  hills  far  away.  Many  of  its 
arches  are  standing  still,  as  fine  in  their  ruined  nuignilicence 
as  the  a(|ueducts  about  Home  itself.  Under  the  shadow  of 
these  broken  arches  with  their  beautiful  columns  and  car\'ed 
capitals  wo  ate  our  lunch,  surrounded  by  a  curious,  o})en- 
eyed  throng  of  nujdern  Tyanites,  who,  to-day,  very  rarely 
see  a  stranger  from  the  outside  world,  famous  and  much- 
visited  as  their  city  used  to  be  in  ancient  days. 

Three  hours  beyond  Tyana  we  came  to  Nigde,  a  thriving 
town  of  several  thousand  inhabitants.  Here,  manv  of  the 
houses  are  of  two  stories,  and  have  glass  in  their  windows, 
and  here  it  Avas  our  good  fortune  to  rest  during  the  Lord's 
Day  in  the  house  of  the  Protestant  pastor  of  the  town. 

Here,  too,  we  had  a  new  illustration  of  the  awful  tvrannv 

7  7  •/  I 

under  Avhich  the  subject  races  of  Turkey  live.  No  sooner 
had  Ave  gone  into  the  house  than  a  poor  broken-hearted 
woman  came  to  see  the  missionary  who  accompanied  us,  to 
tell  him  that  her  husband,  the  pastor  of  a  native  Protestant 
church,  had  suddenly  disap])eared  while  on  his  Avay  to  the 
village  Avhere  his  church  was  situated.  No  one  knew  anv- 
thing  about  him  from  that  sad  day,  though  it  was  susi)ected 
that  he  had  been  arrested  and  imprisoned,  and  perhaps 
murdered  for  supposed  complicity  Avitli  the  Armenian  u})ris- 
ing.  Of  his  innocence  his  poor  Avife  Avas  Avell  assured,  but 
for  three  months  she  had  been  Avaiting  and  hoping  against 
hope,  telling  her  little  child  that  every  footstep  might  be  the 
long-lost  father.  Put  now  she  had  almost  given  up  in  de- 
spair, and  Avitli  streaming  eyes  came  to  ask  us  if  something 
could  not  be  done  to  end  her  dreadful  uncertainty  as  to 
whether  her  husband  Avas  alive  or  dead. 


icient 
nota- 

;  deli- 
of  its 

icence 

ow  of 

carved 

,  open- 
rarely 
inuch- 

hriving 
of  the 

indoNVS, 

1  Lord's 

ivn. 

yranny 
sooner 

nearted 

d  us,  to 
:)testant 
to  the 
w  any- 
spected 
)erhaps 
1  upris- 
ed,  but 
against 
be  the 
in  de- 
liething 
k  as  to 


SOME  MYSTERIOUS   LAMPS. 


547 


To  olfset  this  [)athctic  incident  of  Xigde,  a  rather  amus- 
ing story  was  tohl  us  by  one  of  the  mcrcluints  of  the  phice  to 
the  effect  tliat  one  of  his  feUow  shopkeepers  had  been  a  fe\v 
weeks  before  arrested  and  inipi'isoned  on  some  mysterious 
cliargo,  whosi!  nature  neither  ho  not*  his  neighbors  could 
exactly  determine.  After  a  few  weeks,  however,  he  was 
released,  and  it  was  learned  that  his  arrest  was  caused  bv 
some  very  innocent  lamps  whicli,  in  the  line  of  business,  he 
had  imported  into  Xig(U'.  Tliese  lamps  had  been  meant  to 
hang  from  thi?  ceiling,  and,  in  order  that  they  migiit  be  raised 
and  lowered,  a  metal  ball  about  the  size  of  a  small  cannon 
ball  came  with  them.  Tliese  Ijalls  were  considered  suspicious 
by  the  Turkish  authorities.  It  was  thought  tliey  might  be 
some  terrible  dynamite  explosives  destined  to  blow  the  whole 
country  into  atoms ;  so  tlie  poor  lamp-dealer  was  arrested  and 
imprisoned  witliout  trial  until  the  case  should  be  investigated 
and  his  suspicious  balls  couUl  be  declared  harmless. 

In  the  mi(hlle  of  our  long  journey,  came  a  most  delight- 
ful break,  for  at  tlie  end  of  our  seventh  day  from  Tarsus, 
after  having  traveled  some  two  hundred  miles,  we  came  to 
the  large  Ca})padocian  cit}^  of  Ca}sarea,  which  is  a  great  cen- 
ter not  only  of  trade  but  of  missionary  operations,  and  where 
the  m)od  friends  Avho  had  sent  one  of  their  number  for  us. 
\vith  their  famous  sj)ring  -wagon,  had  their  abode.  This,  too. 
was  an  important  town  in  Eoman  days  and  was  named  for 
Ca}sar  Augustus.  Ever  since  it  has  retained  its  pre-eminence 
in  all  the  vicinity  as  a  commercial  center. 

The  country  about,  though  bare  of  trees,  is  fertile  and 
cajmble  of  sustaining  a  large  population.  Our  interest  in 
Ciusarea  was  not  dependent  upon  beautiful  scenery  or  the  fer- 
tility of  the  soil,  but  centered  in  the  charming  American 
homes  Avhicli  are  here  established  so  far  from  their  native 
land  and  from  all  that  most  of  us  hold  dear.    Here,  for  more 

33 


CAS 


A    DKVOTKI)    MISSIONAKY. 


\   III 


thiin  forty  ve.'ivs,  lias  one  of  the  iiiissioiiarics  of  tlu;  vVmcrican 
I>oar(l  Ix'cii  laboring'  thi'ou^li  <j;()o(l  report  and  evil  i'('|)oi't. 
Often  at  the  risk  of  his  life,  and  alwiiys  uniid  pei'ils  and 
iiardships  of  whi(;h  the  averat^e  Anu^rican  knows  wry  little, 
he  lias  kei)t  on  liis  way,  winning  by  foi-ee  of  a,  genth;,  digni- 
lied,  and  devoted  Christian  life  tlu^  hearts  of  hundreds  of 
))eople  wlio  arc^  opposcMJ  to  his  creed,  and  wiio  regai'd  othei' 
(/hi'istians  as  iididel  do^s  to  be  kicked  out  of  their  country 
whenever  op[)ortunity  all'oi'ds. 

This  yet(M'an  missionary  has  been  joined  in  latin-  years  by 
his  son-in-law  and  family,  and  by  on(j  or  two  olhei-  mission- 
ai'v  families, amon<^'  them  a  most  devot(!d  and  skillful  doctor, 
who  would  mak(^  his  fame  and  fortune!  in  any  countiy  where 
he  might  choose  to  pi'actice.  (Jiving  up  the  allurements  of 
])i'ofessional  success  and  large;  income  in  liis  own  land,  ho 
has  come  to  this  I'eniotc;  city  wliei'e  he  can  cure  the  bodies  of 
tlie  Turks  and  heal  tluiir  souls  as  he  Ihids  his  way  to  their 
affections  and  confidence, 

While  we  are  Imm'c;  togcither  we  will  look  in  u\Hm  a 
y-enuine  Turkish  bath  in  tin;  yew  center  of  Turkey.  l\rany 
of  my  readers  have;  b(;en  in  tin;  elegant  '.establishments  which 
abound  in  all  our  large  cities,  with  their  ti.  and  mai'bles, 
vaultiMl  ceilings  and  fountains,  plunges,  hot  rooms  and  cool- 
ing con(!hes,  but  none  of  them,  ju'rhaps,  have  (!vei'  taken  a 
Turkish  bath  in  the  hind  of  its  nativity.  Wo  will  go  to- 
g(!ther  this  ev(Miing  to  this  balh  in  Talas,  a  subui'b  of 
Ca^sar(;a.  It  has  been  built  by  on  of  tlie  few  enterprising 
inhabitants,  who.  as  a  young  imm  left  his  early  home,  be- 
came famous  in  government  circles,  made  his  fortune  in 
Constantino))le,  and  instead  of  building  a  libraiy  in  his 
native  town  as  he  would  have  done  in  America,  showed  his 
lilial  aifection  by  establishing  this  Tui'kish  balh. 

Into  a  narrow  ante-room  we  go  to  leave  our  clothes,  but 


A   GENUINE  TURKISH    BATH. 


549 


orican 
•epoi't. 
lis  and 
little, 
,  (lio-ni- 
•eds  of 
1  otlxM- 
country 

'cavs  by 
inission- 
1  (loctov, 
•y  where 
ments  of 

land,  he 
bodies  of 

to  their 

upon   a 
.     ]\[any 
lits  which 
marbles, 
un<l  eool- 
taUen  a 
ill  «2,o  to- 
iibnrb   of 
icrprisin*-- 
Lune,  he- 
|)rtune   in 
ly    in    his 
Owed  his 

Ithes,  but 


instead  of  locking-  u|)  oiii"  valuables  in  a,  (ii'e-proof  safe,  as 
we  ar(;  ac'custonied  to  do  at  home,  ^ve  roll  our  watches, 
])ock(^t-books,  and  other  articles  of  vahu!  in  our  clothes,  and 
leav(;  this  biuidh;  on  the  divan  of  tla;  dressin<^-)'ooui.  Surely 
this  speaks  well  for  the  honesty  of  Turkish  hiiinan  nature. 
Then  we  put  on  some  hi<4h  woodcMV  clogs,  in  whic;!)  W(>  find  it 
v(M'v  (iillicuit  to  shiilUe!  about,  and  follow  our  attendant  int(> 
th(!  hot  room.  It  is  not  vcrv  hot,  but  by  stayin*^  tlan-e  lon<^ 
enough  we  get  into  a  genth;  p(U'spiration.  In  tiu^  middle  of 
the  I'oom  is  a  round  stone  dais  undei-  w'lich  the  lii'e  is  built. 
Around  all  sides  of  tin;  I'ooin  are  faucets  of  hot  and  cold 
watiM'  which  we  can  tui'u  on  at  our  pleasure,  and  on  oiu^  side 
of  th(^  large  centi'al  I'oom  is  a,  smadcM"  apartment  into  which 
steam  has  been  tiii'ned  and  when?  we:  can  o!)tain  a  va[)or 
bath  if  so  disposed. 

For  a  lit t hi  whiles  \  was  alone  with  my  fri(uid  in  this 
great,  round,  toml)-iike  buiiding,  with  tla;  vaiiit(>d  dome 
overhead  which  caught  up  and  sent  i)a('k  ami  i-e-echoed  our 
words,  as  though  it  was  ju'oplcd  with  a  hiimlrcid  mocking 
spirits.  I'ut  we  weri^  not  long  alon<',  foi-,  one  after  another, 
th(^  natives  (;ame  trooping  in  until  under  that  resounding 
roof  th(M'(i  must  havt;  been  at  least  lifty  hot,  sweating,  vil- 
lainous-looking Turks.  Morc(»vei-,  they  wei'c^  in  high  spirits, 
for  it  b(>ing  tli(^  time  of  Jiamidan  their  day  of  fasting  was 
ovei",  and  nightfall  had  broiigiit  the  hour  of  feasting.  They 
had  (widently  come  from  a  g(»od  siipp(M'  and  were  full  of 
hilarity  and  gl(;e.  Laughing  and  talking  and  yelling  at  one 
anothei'  in  their  good  spirits,  whih;  the  echoing  i-oof  (piad- 
rupled  theii'  m)ise,  it  seemed  as  though  we  were  in  pamU;- 
numium  itself.  However,  it  was  a  very  good-natui-ed  |)and(;- 
monium,  and  we  vei'v  so(.n  got  used  to  the  din.  Then  the 
shamj)ooer  caim^  in  and  i'ul»i)ed  us  down  and  kneadtid  us 
and  punched  us  and  thumped  us  lilce  so  much  dough,  work- 


I  ! 


550 


CURIOUS   CUSTOMS. 


I ; 


I*  »  .)' 


[iP 


ing  every  muscle,  ])it]ling-  out  every  finger-joint,  and  then 
sousing  us  with  soap  and  hot  water  until  all  the  cuticle 
seemed  in  danger  of  coming  oil'.  Then  the  process  was  re- 
newed, and  alter  a  little  bi'eathing  spell  Avas  iigain  I'cpeated. 
Then  we  were  rubi)ed  with  coarse  gloves,  soajx'd  and  washed 
Jind  sprayed  (^nce  more,  and  the  })rocess  was  declared  to  he 
complete. 

On  the  whole,  it  was  very  enjoyable,  though  I  avouUI 
prefer  hereaftei'  t(;  take  my  Turkish  biiths  in  America  rather 
than  m  Turk(!y. 

I  have  said  \V(>  were  in  C;esarea  dui'ing  the  feast  of  Kani- 
idan.  A  very  notable  occasion  is  this,  corresponding  some- 
Avhat  to  the  lenten  season  of  the  Catholic  church.  It  begins 
with  the  new  moon  of  March  or  Aj)i'il  and  lasts  for  fo]'ty 
days.  If  it  is  cloudy  tlu;  authorities,  curiously  enough, 
a])j)ly  to  the  heretical  missionaries,  whose  religicjn  they  hate, 
but  whose  astroiU)mical  science  alone  tells  them  Avhen  the 
new  moon  has  conu'. 

All  (lay  long  for  forty  days  the  strict  Moslem  religiously 
fasts.  From  early  dawn  until  sunset  not  a  mouthful  })asses 
his  li])s,  not  a  su[)  moistens  his  parcluid  throat,  not  even  a 
whiff  fi'om  the  inevitable  cigarette  is  allowed.  But  at  sunset 
a  great  gun  is  fired,  the  muezzin  pi'oclaims  from  the  minaret 
that  the  sunset  hour  for  pi'ayer  has  come.  But  he  does  not 
ling(!r  long  about  his  call  this  time,  for  he  is  as  hungry  as 
any  of  his  devotees,  and  hastening  down  from  his  watch- 
tower,  with  all  the  other  good  IMohammedans,  he  hurries  to 
the  dinner  table  to  make  up  for  his  long  day  of  fasting. 

This  is  not  the  only  feast  of  the  night  by  any  means.  If 
the  religious  IVIoslem  fasts  all  day  he  makes  up  foi-  it  at 
night,  lor  at  eleven  o'clock,  after  a  few  houi'S  of  sleep  has 
been  enjoycnl,  a,  great  beating  of  pans  and  blaring  of  tin 
horns  is  heard  and  idl  the  faithful  wake  up  to  eat  once  more. 


ul  then 

cuticle 

was  re- 
opeated. 

washed 
ed  to  l)e 

I    would 
VM  nitlier 

,  of  Haili- 
ng some- 
It  Ix'gius 
for  forty 
■  enouglh 
they  hate, 
Avhen  the 

•ligiously 
'ul  ])asses 
i)t  even  a 

at  sunset 
le  minaret 

does  not 
liungry  as 
liis  watch- 

I lurries  to 
[iting. 

|u(!ans.     If 
for  it  at 

sleep  has 
|in<>;  of  tin 
Lnce  more. 


FASTING   AND   FEASTIN(i. 


551 


Then  a  little  more  sleep,  and  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning 
another  gun  is  lired  to  waken  the  followers  of  the  prophet  to 
iinother  feast. 

I>ut  when  the  first  streak  of  morning  gray  api)ears,  when 
the  tiuH!  coMU's  that  they  can  detect  "the  difference  hetween 
a  black'  and  white  thread,"'  as  the  law  i'e([;.ii'es,  th(;n  the 
fast  l)e<>'ins  a<>'ain  and  not  anotluM'  mouthfu'  must  thev  eat 
until  Ihe  sunset  gun  is  lired.  Those  who  ca.i  afford  the 
tinui  and  do  )U)t  iumhI  to  woi'k,  sleeo  awav  as  much  of  the 
day  of  fasting  as  they  can  and  oidy  waUe  u|)  in  season  for 
th(>  evening  feast.  We  found,  to  our  cost,  that  oui'  wliole 
stay  in  Tui'key  coincided  with  the  fast  of  Uainidan.  for  the 
officials  were  eitluM'  asle(»p  when  we  called  on  them  for  any 
favoi'.  or  so  sui'lv  from  theii'  Ion<i'  fastinf^  that  it  was  with 
ditliculty  we  could  get  what  we  wanted.  IJut  our  precious 
"•  houyourouldou "'  which  the  governoi' of  Adana  had  given 
us,  usually  overcame  even  the  ci'ustin(?ss  of  the  lialf-starved 
magnates,  and  we  suffered  but  little  detention  or  trouble  in 
oui"  journey. 

After  leaving  our  good  friends  in  Ciesai'ea  our  I'oute  lay 
along  the  northern  edge  of  ('api)adocia,  then  into  (Jalatia, 
where  were  the  churches  to  which  Paul  wrote  his  (ihxpient 
epistle,  then  into  I'ythinia,  Avliich  boi'ders  on  tlu;  IJlack  sea 
and  the  Jiosphorus.  Nowhei'e  did  we  find  a  road  so  I'ough 
as  the  "five  bad  miles,"  but  it  was  always  sidliciently  out  of 
repair  to  remind  us  that  we  were  still  in  Tui'key.  Though 
the  government  levies  taxes  of  thousands  of  pounds  every 
year  upon  the  o])pressed  peasantry  for  the  I'epair  and  main- 
tenance of  this  road,  xoX  year  after  year  no  piastre  is  ex- 
])(Mi(led  and  no  shovel  is  lifted  to  make  the  road  better. 
]\Iuch  of  tlu!  way  over  which  we  iournevcd  lay  across  an 
elevated  table  land  wliei'e  the  scenery  was  monotonous  and 
uninteresting,  and  the  khans  where  we  spent  the  night  were 


552 


CARVIN(i    UP   TURKEY. 


very  much  Iik(!  tliosc;  with  whicli  we  hud  })reviously  become 
aajiuiiiited  in  (Mliciu  and  (Jajipadocia. 

Foi-  days  iiiid  days  on  tliis  journey  we  saw  no  trees  or 
bushes,  and  scarcely  a  shi'uh  as  bi<^'  as  a  lead  ixmcil.  This 
Turkey  has  evidently  not  oidy  been  picked  and  singed,  but 
even  tlie  pin  feathers  have  been  ])hjck(!(l  out  of  the  ])ooi'  cjtr- 
cass.  It  is  evident  that  when  the  poor  bird  is  roastinl  in  the 
next  war,  it  will  b(^  in  order  foi-  th(!  Euro|)ean  nations  to 
carv(;  it  amon<^'  themselves.  TIk^  only  thing  which  ])revents 
them  fi'om  doing  this  to-day  is,  that  each  fears  the  other 
and  that  each  wants  the  best  cuts  and  largest  slices  of  Avliite 
meat  and  the  tcnidcir  second  joints  for  itself.  luigland  will 
not  let  Ilussia  hav(!  all  tin;  bi'eastand  all  thedrcissing,  liussia 
is  bound  to  kec^p  England  away  from  this  [)latter  which  it 
regards  as  altogiitluM"  ils  own,  whih;  (Jci-many  and  Ki'ance 
each  think  that  tluiy  ha,V(!  something  to  say  in  the  mattei". 

In  the;  ni(;antim(\  tlic!  old  bird  is  not  yet  ca,rved  uj) among 
the  nations,  and,  as  a consecpience,  the  people  of  Tui'key 
remain  in  ignorance  and  superstition,  (Christians  are  ])erse- 
cuted,  ])r()gress  is  delayed,  inventiveness  and  enter|)ris(;s  are 
checked,  and  (iveiythiiig  is  going  backward  in  tin;  land  of  the 
Sultan,  while  all  the  rt!st  of  tlu^  woilo  is  moving  forward 
witii  the  lightning  rapi<lity  of  tlu;  nineteenth  century. 

"The  United  States  has  citizims,  England  has  sid)jects, 
Turkey  has  abjects,"  is  a  ti'ue  and  witty  saying  wiiich  avi'vy 
one  fully  appreciates  after  crossing  Asia  Minor. 

Six  daysafter  leaving  (-a'sarea  we  came  to  Angora,  a 
famous  city  both  in  ancient  aiul  modei'u  times,  llei-i!  we 
saw  many  cartloads  of  political  pi'isonei's  who  had  just  been 
relea,se(l,  going  bade  to  their  homes  again.  Ilundi'eds  of 
these  nuni  had  been  ai'rested  merely  on  suspicion,  had  b(,'en 
liui'i'ied  away  from  their  homes,  manacled  and  chained,  to 
})risuns  many  days  distant  from  their  own  villages;  and  now. 


)Ccoine 

recs  or 
,  This 
;c(l,  but 

)()1'  ClU'- 

l  in  tho 

tioiis  to 

M-evonts 

le  other 

)f  wliitc 

md  will 

r,  Ilussia 

which  it 

1   Ki'unce 

uiittcr, 

ipainoiif:; 
Tm-kcy 
0  pci'sc- 
■iscs  arc 
1(1  ol'  the 
t'oi'wani 

•V. 
subjects, 
(;h  every 

Viif^'ora,  a 
Uvw.  \vt5 
just  been 
(Ireds  of 
hud  iM'cn 
lained,  to 
and  now. 


AN(JOKA    AND    ITS   FAMOUS   CATS. 


553 


without  trial  or  heariii«^-,  hut  a|)j)areiitly  at  the  caprieeof  tiie 
Sultan  and  the  rei<4nin;^'  powers  they  had  i)een  released, 
])i'obiil)ly  h(!eaus(!  His  Majesty  fcariu";'  to  kill  thciii  lest  ho 
should  fi^et  into  ti'ouhh;  with  foreign  nations,  and  not  k!n)W- 
in;4'  whatels*^  to  do  with  them,  had  sent  theni  lioinc^  a^ain. 

A  h'W  of  tlw'ii'  hallows,  however,  had  heeii  I'etaJned  in 
prisons,  and,  at  their  suhse(pient  ti'ial  which  took  plac(!  at 
An^^'ora,  seventeen  wei'e  seidcnced  to  death;  i)Mt  when  tho 
(christian  j)owers  rc'Uionslrated  and  su^^'^csled  that  an  ii-on- 
clad  ini<«lit  make  the  remonsti'ancc}  elVeetual,  the  Sultan 
yielded  the  point  and  pardoru'd  most  of  his  prisoners. 

An<2^ora,  is  noted  not  oidy  t'oi- its  iteaulii'ul  Ihiiry-liairod 
cats,  which  ari;  famous  all  the  woi'Id  ovei",  hut  also  as  tho 
seat  of  th(^  moliaii'  trade.  The  handsome  ;^'oats  which  fin-nish 
the  hail' (lot  tlu;  plains  on  vwvy  side,  tens  of  thousands  of 
them,  with  their  lon;^',  criid<ly  w(»ol  han^'in^-  to  the  very 
<;'round.  IJeaiitifid,  •j,'ent l(}-fac.'d  little  ci'eatures  they  are,  as 
dill'ei'ent  from  tlu;  ordinary  vicious  ;^(>a,t  as  a  week-old  land) 
is  dill'ereid.  from  his  u^'ly  pro«i,'enitor. 

A  new  I'ailroad  has  just  been  completed  from  An;i'oi'a  to 
Constantinople,  it  carries  us  at  the  rate  (tf  einhl  or  ten 
miles  an  lioui".  Its  trains  do  not  rim  at  ni^^lit,  hut  when 
dai'kness  conu'S  on  they  ti(^  up  wlierevei'  they  liap|)en  to  he, 
ami  start  on  a^ain  early  the  lU'xt  mornin;:,'.  After  twodavs 
of  such  iom'iU'N'injj',  durin;.''  which  we  make  hut  a  little  ovei" 
two  hundred  miles,  we  reach  at  last  heanliful  ( '(tnstant  inople, 
th(M'ity  which  has  the  most  superb  situation  in   the  world. 

As  we  draw  near  to  this  marvelous  city,  especially  after 
spendini;-  many  days  in  the  harreii  interior,  and  amid  the 
i'u;^';^'ed  moiuitains  of  ( 'appadocia  ;  as  we  see  the  smiJin;.;'  val- 
leys and  well-clot  lied  iiilltops  that  siirronnd  it  ;  as  we  catch 
a,  ^•limpseof  the  (Jolden  Horn  and  the  sihcr  waves  of  the 
sparklin;;'    Itosphorns,  we  acknowle(|n(>   that    IJyron   is  (|uiL(! 


!i 

■  ••■If- 

i 


ill; 


554 


AMERICAN    INSTITUTIONS   IN   CONSTANTINOPLE. 


right  wlieii  lie  descrilx's  Coiislimtiiiople  and  its  envii'oiis  as, 

"  The  land  of  the  ccilar  ami  viii(>, 

AN'licic  tliL'  flowers  ever  bloom  and  the  licaiiis  ever  shine. 

Where  the  liirht  winjrs  of  /.e])hyr  opjjressed  with  i)erfunie, 

AVax  faint  in  the  gardens  of  (Jul  iti  her  iilooni, 

"Where  the  eitr"ii  ami  oli\c  are,  fairest  of  fruit, 

And  thi;  voice  of  the  nightingale  never  is  nuite, 

AVIk  re  the  tints  of  the  earth  and  the  hue  of  the  sky, 

In  (olor  thongli  varied,  in  beauty  may  vie. 

And  the  purjile  of  oeean  is  deeiiest  in  dye  " 

It  ^v()lll(l  ttike  iiiaiiy  a  cliaptci-  ;i(le(iiiately  to  desci'ibo  the 
beauties  tiiid  woiidei's  of  this  imperitil  city,  its  ina<>'nilicent 
situation,  its  unsui'passed  mosijues.  Among  them  the  famous 
Siiint  Sophiti,  uith  its  cui'ious  ;ind  unending  hibyrinthine 
bazaars  iilled  with  I'ugs  and  silks,  silverwtire  iind  bric-;i-bi'ac, 
and  everything  thiit  c;in  tem])t  the  cu})idity  and  unloose  the 
purse  strings  of  the  tiverage  traveler. 

Americans,  too,  may  well  hiive  a  ])iirticular  ititerest  in 
Constantinople,  for  here  they  have  uuule  their  mtirk  through 
their  missionaries.  The  most  important  eductitional  institu- 
tions and  almost  all  the  Christian  work  of  the  city  is  in  the 
hands  of  American  educators  and  missionai'ies.  Here  is  sit- 
uated the  famous  Robert  Colleg-e  which  gtithers  its  students 
from  half  a  dozen  nations,  sets  its  seal  of  educated  manhood 
upon  them,  and  sends  them  out  to  I)e  leaders  and  })ioneers  of 
civilization  in  their  own  hinds.  The  most  strategic  ])osition 
of  any  educational  institution  in  the  world,  is  that  which  is 
occui)ied  l)y  Robert  College. 

Across  the  Ros])horus,  on  the  Asititic  side  in  the  suburb 
of  Scuttiri.  is  the  American  College  for  girls,  a  school  which 
I  believe  in  the  fiitur(>  ^vill  do  for  the  yoimg  women  of 
Turkey,  Bulgaria.  Roumelia,  aiul  Armenia  what  Robert  Col- 
lege has  done  Jind  is  <loing  for  their  brothers. 

Herein  Constantinople,  too.  is  the  famous  Bible  House, 


ILlUt 


EDrcATixr;  the  turks. 


555 


ms  as, 


:;ribe  the 
('•niticent 
le  famous 
yrintliine 
ric-a-brac, 
iloosc  the 

iitorest  in 
throu^'h 
x\  inst  it  Il- 
ls in  the 
ere  is  sit- 
studcnts 
manhood 
)i()neevs  of 
ic  position 
1  whicli  is 

lie  suburb 

lool  which 

Iwomen  of 

lobort  Col- 

Ible  House, 


"with  its  immense  ])i'iiitinf^'  estaljlislimout,  IVoin  wliicli  <j;'o 
forth  everv  year  s<j  many  jii'iuted  heaves  I'oi'  the  heaHng  of 
the  nations.  So  careful  and  wise  ai'e  the  directors  of  this  es- 
tablishment that  even  the  critical  censor  of  the  government 
cannot  object  to  nmch  of  their  work.  To  be  sure  they  are 
liampered  and  hindei'ed.  Every  obstacle  is  thrown  in  their 
way,  and  niany  of  the  |    t 

pul)l  ica  t  ion  s  which 
they  would  be  glad  to 
issue  are  altogethei' 
prohibited ;  but  in  spite 
of  these  ol)stacles  a 
vast  amount  of  Chris- 
tian literature  gets  into 
the  hands  of  the  sub- 
ject nations  of  Turkey 
from  year  to  year 
through  this  channel. 

"We  must  not  fail 
to  visit  the  mos(pie  of 
St.  8(jphia,  one  of  the 
most  i  m  p  r  e  s  s  i  v  e 
churches  in  any  land. 
As  my  readers  doubt- 
less know,  it  was  a 
Chi'istian  church  in  the  time  of  Constantine  and  for  many 
centuries  afterwards.  When  ('onstantino]>le  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  Turks  St.  Sojjhia  became  a  Turkish  mosque; 
all  the  images  of  the  saints  were  broken,  every  piece  of 
carved  r.tone  work  which  bore  any  likeness  to  any  creature 
in  the  air  above  or  tiie  (virth  beneath  or  the  waters  under 
the  earth  was  cliipjjed  away;  the  sign  of  the  cross  which  ap- 
peared innumerable  times  in  diirerent  i)arts  of  the  cathedral 


MOStJCK    OK   KL    AZAK. 


i 


i 


i; 


550 


THE  GREAT  MOSQUE  OF  ST.  SOPHIA. 


"was  everywhere  chiseled  out,  and  all  the  magnificent  win- 
dows and  mosaics  were  either  broken  or  covered  up  Avith 
hideous  yellow  paint  or  ])laster.  Yet  in  spite  of  all  this 
vandalism  of  fanatical  image-haters,  St.  Sophia  retains  its 
ancient  glory  and  im]>ressiveness  to  a  large  degree.  Its 
pro])ortions   are    magnificently    symmetrical.      The    dome, 

which  hangs  like  a 
huge  substantial  bub- 
ble in  the  air,  it  is  im- 
possible to  describe 
with  a  n  y  ad ject i ve 
which  the  dictionary 
furnishes. 

The  floor  is  now 
covered  with  prayer 
rugs,  all  of  them  point- 
ing toward  ]\Iecca,  so 
that  the  devout  ]\[os- 
lem  when  he  pi'os- 
trates  himself  on  his 
rug  knows  which  way 
to  face,  as  he  mumbles 
^^"^is"^  ^^^^  monotonous  peti- 
tion. 

SIDEWALK    MEKCIIANTS,    CONSTAXTINOl'LE.  ^^^^      ^^^^j^,       ^^^^,      -^^ 

present  magnificence,  however,  is  St.  Soj)liia  interesting, 
but  because  of  its  historic  associations.  Over  this  famous 
church,  for  many  a  century,  has  Moslem  and  Christian 
quarreled,  and  it  bears  within  itself  many  a  mark  of  the 
hands  of  its  successive  conquerors.  High  up  on  the  wall, 
at  least  ten  feet  higher  than  a  man  on  horsel)ack  can 
reach,  the  print  of  a  Ijloody  hand  is  pointed  out,  and  we 
are  told  by  our  guide  that  that  is  the  mark  which  was  made 


THE  STAIN   OF   A   BLOODY    HAND. 


557 


it  wm- 

p  with 

ill  this 

iiins  its 

ee.    Its 

dome, 

like    a 

ial  bub- 
it  is  im- 

describe 

adjective 

ictionary 

L'  is  now 
h  prayer 
lem  point- 
ISIecca,  so 

out  ^los- 

he    pvos- 
tlf  on  his 

ivhich  way 
nuuubles 

inous  pcti- 

|v    for    its 
iteresting, 
Ins  famous 
Christian 
Ivk  of  the 
the  wall. 
)back  can 
|t,  and  we 
was  made 


by  the  conquerin*^'  Sultan,  who  hiially  wrested  Constanti- 
nople from  the  g-rasp  of  the  Christians.  As  tlie  last  mark  of 
his  triumph  he  rode  into  this  ma<^nificent  Cliristian  church 
on  horseback,  after  having  slain  lumdreds  of  worshipers  who 
were  tliero  assembled,  and  so  high  wore  the  bodies  of  the 
victims  piled  one  upon  another,  that  when  he  reached  uj) 
and  struck  his  bloody  palm  against  the  wall  it  made  the 
mark  which  now  wo  see  far  above  our  heads. 


ST.    SOIMUA,    TIIF,    MAUVELOUS. 

On  the  otiier  side  is  a  stone  column  which  we  are  assured 
was  cleft  at  the  same  time  by  the  sword  of  this  conquering 
monarch.  Hero  the  one  wlio  has  faith  enough  may  see  the 
curbstone  of  the  well  of  Samaria  on  which  Christ  sat.  Here 
is  a  "sweating  column,"'  which  is  almost  worn  away  by  the 

CD  V  t- 

fingers  of  the  credulous,  who  iind  in  the  moisture  which 
the  stone  exudes  an  ointment  for  all  kinds  (^f  diseases. 
Some  })oor  sufferers  are  always  fingering  this  stone. 


i 


' 


T 


r)os 


THE   FAMOrS   AVIIIRTJNf;   DERVISHES. 


■  '  I 


! 


IJiit  most  iiii]irossiv('  of  all  In  tliis  <^i'c'at  cliiircli  to  tlio 
C'hi'istiiin,  is  a  i)ictur('  of  oiii'  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  mosiiic  on 
one  of  the  walls,  wliicli  has  Itccii  sincai'od  ovci"  and  covorcd 
uj)  l»v  Tui'kish  paint,  hut  which  in  the  slow  process  of  the 
C(Mituri('s  is  heniimin;^'  to  show  through  the  veil  witli  Avhich 
the  cneniies  of  Chi'ist  sought  to  cover  his  I'ace.  The  outline 
is  now  (iistiiu'tlv  visihle  and  (irowinn'  moi'e  aiul  inoi'e  dis- 
tinct,  we  are  tohl,  as  time  wears  away  tlu^  paint  and  the 
years  roll  on.  Xo  Christian  Jieai't  can  look  upon  it  without 
seeing-  in  that  j)ictui'e  a  pi'o])liecv  of  the  day  when  light  from 
the  face  of  (Christ  shall  shine  throu'-h  the  ignorance  and 
superstition  of  the  Moslem's  faith,  by  wliich  his  perfect 
countenance  lias  been  obscured  for  so  many  centuries. 

Another  fanu)us  sight  which  we  shall  be  sure  to  see 
before  leaving  Constantinople  is  the  whirling  and  the  howl- 
ing dervishes.  The  whirlers  whirl  and  the  howlers  howl 
every  week,  though  in  dillerent  mosques,  and  it  is  a  sight 
Avhich  once  seen  is  not  easilv  forgotten.  On  the  dav  that 
we  went  to  see  the  whirlei's  we  had  to  wait  a  long  Avliile 
before  the  lirst  of  the  dei'vishes  appeared.  The  moscjue  in 
wiiich  they  perform  their  curious  gyrations  is  a  snudl  build- 
ing with  a  circular  sj)ace  railed  off  in  the  center  of  the  floor. 
Outside  of  the  fence  which  incloses  this  circle,  and  in  the 
gallery  above  Avhicli  commands  a  line  view  of  it,  there  are 
always  crowds  of  spectators. 

When  we  had  been  waiting  some  half  hour  or  more,  two 
dervishes  in  tall,  cream-colored  felt  hats  like  sugar  loaves 
with  the  top  cut  off',  entered  the  moscjue  solemnly  and 
slowly.  They  were  covered  with  long,  dark  cloaks  and 
were  very  solemn  and  sedate,  and,  on  the  whole,  good-look- 
ing men.  Then  a  few  more  dervishes  entered  the  mosque, 
and  then  more,  until  there  were  in  all  twenty-seven  men  in 
dark  cloaks  and  tall  sugar-loaf  hats.     Then  three  high  der- 


BEFORE   THE    WIIIUL. 


0*)!) 


to  the 
)siuc  on 
Lioveved 
i  of  the 
1  which 
s  outline 
lore  <lis- 
jind  the 

without 

J^llt  t'l'OUl 

nice  and 
■4  perfect 
es. 

I'c   to  see 
the  howl- 
lei's  howl 
|is  a  sight 
day  that 
)nu'  while 
os(]ue  in 
Kill  build- 
he  floor, 
ud  in  the 
there  are 

more,  two 
ar  loaves 
nmly  and 
loaks  and 
oood-look- 
e  nioscjuc, 
en  men  in 

r 


visiles,  one  of  wlioni  wor(^  a   In-oad   irrct^n  veil  around    his 

sugar-loaf  fez,  showing  that  he  is  adirect  descendant  of  the 

I'i'ophet  himself,  entered  the  chai'med  cii'dc".     They  seated 

themselves  on  the  floor  while  all  the  others  stood  al)out   the 

sides   like   carved    statues.      Then    the   statues    uidiiid)ere(l 

and  began  to  march  anjund.  two  l)y  two,  each  mendjer  of 

each  couple  bowing  low 

to    the   otliei'    as    they 

cam(;    in    front   of    the 

liigli   dervishes.      Then 

they  bowed  once  more 

before   the    descendant 

of  the  patriarch  and  his 

companions,  and  march 

again  around  the  circle. 

This  process  is  re 
peated  three  times,  and 
each  time  a  very  low 
salaam  is  made  by  the 
man  in  front  to  the  der- 
vish immediately  be- 
hind him,  and  by  the 
dervish  behind  to  the 
one  who  marches  imme- 
diately in  front  of  him. 
Then  to  the  discordant  and  creaky  music  of  some  pipers  in 
the  gallery  they  begin  to  whirl,  slowly  at  first,  but  as  the 
music  increases  in  rapidity  they  whirl  more  swiftly  and  more 
swiftly  still,  until  in  a  perfect  frenzy  they  swing  around  their 
narrow  circle. 

Before  beginning  this  operation  they  cast  off  their  long 
cloaks  and  a])])eared  clad  in  skirts  which  reached  consider- 
ably below  their  knees.     As  they  whirled  the  skirts  of  the 


A   WHIRLING   DEUVISir. 


'iu 


V^. 


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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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5G0  A  STRANGE  CEREMONY. 

most  energetic  stood  out  stiff  from  their  bodies  like  encom- 
passing balloons,  just  as  I  have  seen  the  skirts  of  little  girls 
fly  out  when  whirling  about  in  the  process  familiarly  known 
as  "making  a  cheese."  Some  of  the  dervishes  whirl  much 
better  than  others,  and  it  seems  to  be  the  height  of  their  am- 
bition to  revolve  so  rapidly  and  smoothly  that  not  one  of 
them  shall  touch  the  other,  and  that  their  skirts  shall  stand 
out  from  their  bodies  as  though  distended  by  a  huge  crino- 
line. How  they  keep  it  up  is  a  mystery,  but  keep  it  up 
they  do  minute  after  minute  for  fully  ten  minutes  at  a  time. 
Then  after  resting  a  little  they  march  round  once  more  and 
whirl  again,  and  this  strange  religious  ceremony  is  over. 

At  least  this  was  all  we  saw  the  dervishes  perform, 
though  frequently  babies  are  brought  in  in  the  arms  of  their 
infatuated  parents  and  laid  upon  the  floor  of  the  mosque  for 
the  holy  men  to  walk  over.  They  step  lightly  and  gingerly 
as  though  treading  on  eggs,  and  it  is  said  that  they  rarely 
hurt  the  little  victims  under  their  feet ;  still,  it  cannot  be  en- 
tirely pleasant  for  the  babies. 

The  "howlers"  are  very  much  of  the  same  order,  but 
instead  of  whirling  they  sway  their  bodies  violently  back- 
ward and  forward  and  from  right  to  left  as  though  they 
would  jerk  their  heads  off  their  bodies,  at  the  same  time 
chanting  a  weird  cry,  which  degenerates  at  times  into  a 
frightful  yell.  Their  exertions  are  more  violent  than  that  of 
the  whirlers  and  their  healing  efficacy  in  treading  upon  in- 
fants is  said  to  be  even  greater  than  that  of  their  brother 
dervishes. 

One  more  scene  which  we  shall  witness  before  leaving 
Constantinople  is  the  weekly  ceremony,  which  when  trans- 
lated into  English  means  the  going  to  mosque  of  the  Sultan. 
Every  visitor  who  is  in  the  city  on  Friday  makes  it  a  point 
of  getting  a  permit  from  his  consulate  which  will  enable  him 


HOW   THE  SULTAN  GOES  TO  CHUHCH. 


561 


to  see  this  wonderful  sight.  The  ceremony  of  going  to 
church  is  nowhere  else  attended  by  so  much  pomp  and  mag- 
nificence, or  with  so  much  fuss  and  feathers  as  that  of  the 
ruler  of  the  faithful  here  in  Constantinople. 

For  hours  beforehand  the  soldiers  begin  to  assemble- 
From  all  parts  of  the  city  they  come,  infantry,  cavalry,  and 
artillery,  bands  of  music,  and  flaunting  horse  tails,  which  in 
former  years  were  the  ensigns  which  led  the  Turks  to 
victory.  Every  street  and  approach  within  half  a  mile  of 
the  mosque  is  lined  with  soldiers  four  deep,  and  even  on 
ordinary  occasions  it  is  said  that  ten  thousand  men  guard 
the  sacred  person  of  His  Majesty  every  Friday. 

Half  an  hour  before  the  Sultan's  carriage  appears  upon 
the  scene  a  half  score  or  more  of  carts  filled  with  sand  of 
the  finest  quality  sprinkle  the  roadway  over  which  the  royal 
wheels  will  trundle.  Every  little  pebble  larger  than  a  pea 
is  picked  out  by  careful  attendants.  We  only  wish,  as  we 
see  all  this  preparation,  that  th.o  iSulian  could  have  gone  over 
some  of  the  horrible  loads  in  the  interior  of  his  dominion, 
and  have  liis  royal  bones  shaken  up  as  ours  were  shaken  on 
his  wretched  highways.  There  would  be  some  poetic  justice 
in  this. 

While  we  are  waiting  for  the  royal  carriage  all  is  bustle 
and  activit"  scores  and  scores  of  elegant  equipages  drawn 
by  prancing  horses  draw  up  in  front  of  the  mosque,  and  out 
of  these  carriages  step  most  gorgeous  human  butterflies  in 
bewilderingly  magnificent  raiment.  Generals  and  commo- 
dores and  ambassadors  of  the  highest  rank  are  here  blazing 
with  their  decorations  and  jeweled  insignia  of  office.  Here 
come  three  or  four  beautiful  carriages  in  which  are  the 
^  Sultan's  wives  and  some  of  his  daughters.  They  are  not 
allowed  to  step  out  of  the  carriages,  and  we  can  just  see  their 
black  eyes  gleaming  above  their  veils  as  they  look  out  curi- 


t  ••,1 


m 


663 


THE  SULTAN  S  WIVES  AND  DAUGHTERS. 


ously  upon  the  scene,  for  this  is  one  of  the  few  outings 
which  they  have  in  their  lives.  Tiien  comes  the  Sultan's 
nephews,  the  heir  apparent  to  the  throne,  and  his  younger 
brothers  and  cousins,  the  smaller  ones  attended  by  ugly 
black  eunuchs  whose  long  arms  seem  to  hang  down  nearly 
to  their  knees. 


A  TURKISH  BEAUTY. 


Into  the  mosque  are  now  taken  the  Sultan's  library 
chair,  a  box  containing  his  clothes,  a  white  dinner  service, 
and  numerous  other  things,  until  one  thinks  he  is  about  to 
move  into  the  mosque  to  live ;  but,  no,  they  will  all  be  taken 
out  again  in  half  an  hour  and  carted  home,  but  everything  is. 
placed  there  in  readiness  so  that  if  he  expresses  the  slightest 
wish  it  may  at  once  be  fulfilled. 


A  MEAN   AND   CRAFTY-LOOKING  RULER. 


563 


And  now  look!  The  band  strikes  up  a  martial  air  of 
welcome,  a  look  of  expectancy  comes  upon  every  face,  and 
ten  thousand  necks  are  craned  to  see  the  carriage  which 
comes  slowly  down  the  hill  from  the  palace  to  the  mosque. 
On  the  front  seat  of  this  carriage  is  a  noble-looking  man  in 
splendid  military  costume  covered  with  decorations,  who 
appears  every  inch  a  king.  But  he  is  not  the  Sultan.  The 
other  man  who  sits  on  the  back  seat  of  the  carriage, —  that 
mean,  crafty-looking  fellow,  Avitii  the  red  beard  and  hooked 
nose,  and  the  scared  look  in  the  deceitful  eyes  which  he  lifts 
to  the  crowd  of  European  spectators  as  he  passes  the  em- 
bassy,—  that  is  "Tiie  Sultan  of  glorious  Sultans,  Emperor  of 
powerful  Emperors,  distributer  of  the  crowns  of  intidel 
rulers  that  are  seated  upon  thrones,  the  shadow  of  God  upon 
earth.  I,  who  am  the  Emperor,  the  Asylum  of  Justice  and 
the  King  of  Kings,  the  centre  of  victory;  I,  who,  by  the 
real  Almighty,  the  Fount  cf  happiness,  am  adorned  with  the 
title  of  Emperor  of  both  lands,  and,  by  the  crowning 
grandeur  of  my  caliphate,  am  graced  by  the  title  of  Sov- 
ereign of  both  Seas." 

He  dismounts  at  the  door  of  the  mosque,  enters  the 
sanctuary  just  as  the  old  howjeh  from  the  minaret  overhead 
calls  to  noonday  prayer,  is  absent  for  about  half  an  hour, 
presumably  at  his  worship,  and  then  returns,  takes  the  reins 
from  his  coachman  and  drives  himself  slowlv  up  the  hill  to 
his  palace. 

It  is  said  that   he  regards   this  feat  of  driving  himself 

from  the  mosque  to  the  palace  up  a  somewhat  steep  hill 

with  ten  thousand  soldiers  to  come  to  his  rescue  if  necessary, 

as  a  feat  of  surpassing  courage.     It  is  the  only  brave  thing 

that  he  attempts  to  do,  and  most  of  his  time,  it  is  said,  is 

passed  in  abject  fear  lest  he  lose  his  life,  and  his  empire  be 

wrested  from  his  unworthy  hands. 
34 


i 
I 


i 


I 

M 


' 


5G4  THE  sultan's  fear  OF  ASSASSINATION. 

IIow  different  this  from  tiie  brave  days  of  old  when 
Othman  and  Suleynian  and  their  successors  led  their  own 
troops  in  the  thickest  of  the  fray  from  victory  to  victory ! 
"\Ve  can  have  some  respect  for  these  old  warriors,  cruel  and 
fanatical  and  bloodthirsty  as  many  of  them  were, —  at  least 
they  ruled  with  kingly  dignity  and  in  kingly  s})lendor. 

In  the  old  time  the  Sultan  had  in  his  seraglio  a  first  lord 
of  the  stable  under  whom  were  nearly  seven  thousand 
grooms  to  take  care  of  the  royal  steedg.  lie  had  also  a 
"Chief  Falconer"  and  "Chief  Hawker,"  and  even  a  "Chief 
Sparrow  Hawker."  The  "Chief  of  his  Tent  Titchers"  had 
under  him  nearlv  ei<j:ht  hundred  men  whose  duty  it  was  to 
])itch  the  Sultan's  tents  wherever  he  might  wish  to  sjiend  the 
day.  He  also  had  a  "Chief  Taster,"  with  fifty  sub-tasters 
under  him  who  tried  all  the  Sultan's  dishes. 

His  "  Chief  Baker  "  was  the  master  of  five  hundred  other 
bakers,  and  the  "Chief  Confectioner"  had  five  hundred  Avho 
were  subject  to  him.  Besides  these,  there  was  the  "  Master 
Yesturer,"  who  had  charge  of  the  Sultan's  clothes,  and  Avhose 
duty  it  was  to  follow  him  Avhen  he  went  ahroad  and  scatter 
silver  coins  before  him.  The  "  Master  of  the  Turbans"  had 
charge  of  the  imperial  head-dress,  one  of  which  he  carried  in 
procession,  inclining  it  to  right  or  left  as  a  salutation  to  the 
peoj)le.  There  was  even  a  "  Master  of  the  Na})kins,''  a 
"  ]\[aster  Ewer  Kee])er,"  Avho  jioured  water  on  the  Sultan's 
hands,  a  "  Chief  Turban  Winder,"  a  "  Chief  Coffee  Server," 
and  a  "  Chief  Barber,"  with  many  subordinates  under  each 
of  them.  "We  even  read  of  a  "•  Chief  Nightingale  Keeper," 
and  "  Chief  Parrot  Keeper,"  whose  duties  may  be  guessed 
from  their  very  names. 

A  trustworthy  author  who  visited  the  royal  treasure 
chambers  as  late  as  1880,  tells  us  that  there  he  beheld  "  huge 
emeralds  as  large  as  one's  hand,  garnets  positively  plated 


RICH  STORES  OF  COSTLY  JEWELS. 


5G5 


a 


■with  groat  table  diamonds,  maces,  and  daggers  whose  hilts 
held  gems  as  large  as  lions'  eggs.  Jeweled  aigrots  and  robes 
of  state  standing  up  stitt'  with  gold  and  })recious  stones." 

All  those  are  the  relics  of  the  more  prosperous  past.  All 
indicate  an  era  of  splendid  though  barbaric  magnificence. 
All  show  a  period  of  virility  and  manly  strength  in  I'ulers 
and  conquering  people  alike.  IIow,  indeed,  are  the  mighty 
fallen,  wlien,  from  this  period  of  grandeur,  we  come  down  to 


A  TUIIKISII  WOMAN. 


the  timid,  mean-faced  Sultan  of  the  present  day,  who  dares 
not  go  to  mosque  Avithout  ten  thousand  soldiers  to  insure  his 
safety,  and  who,  with  all  his  cruel  tyranny,  is  ready  to  col- 
lapse with  terror,  wlien  a  foreign  nation  so  much  as  whispers 
the  word  "  ironclad  "  in  his  ear ! 

Before  we  leave  Asia  for  the  shores  of  Europe,  we  must 
make  a  brief  excursion  to  Broussa,  one  of  the  most  romark- 
ablo  as  one  of  the  most  beautiful  cities  of  the  Ottoman 
Empire.     A  lovely  sail  of  half  a  day  brings  us  to  the  port  of 


566 


A  BRAVE  AND  WISE  SULTAN  OF  OLD. 


this  ancient  capital  of  the  IVIoslem.  Here  Ave  find  Moham- 
medanism at  its  best.  Tlie  mosques  are  spacious  and  mag- 
nificent. Quite  an  attempt  is  made  in  the  line  of  education, 
and  the  magnificent  scenery,  the  pure  air,  and  grand  old 
Olympus  (not  the  Olympus  of  classic  fable,  but  a  very  re- 
spectable mountain,  nevertheless)  which  forms  a  background 
to  the  city,  all  seem  to  have  left  their  impress  upon  the  rul- 


A   SULTAN  S  TOMB. 


ing  race,  and  nowhere  are  Moslems  more  courteous  and  less 
fanatical  than  in  this  their  ancient  capital. 

Here,  as  long  ago  as  the  year  1326,  after  a  ten-years 
siege,  Broussa  capitulated  to  the  troops  of  Othman,  and  here 
the  great  Sultan  Avas  buried  soon  after,  for  it  was  his  dying 
wish  tliat  he  should  be  interred  at  Broussa,  the  new  capital 
of  his  mighty  empire.  The  sword  of  Othman  is  still  sacredly 
treasured  at  Constantinople,  and  each  Sultan  in  his  turn,  as 
he  comes  to  the  throne,  has  the  sacred  blade  of  the  founder 
of  his  empire  buckled  to  his  belt  by  Avay  of  coronation. 


THE  TOMB  OF   "BLACK   OTHMAN." 


667 


Happy  would  it  have  been  for  his  successors,  and  the  em- 
pire which  they  govern,  if  his  descendants  had  been  as  brave, 
as  far-seeing,  and  as  simple  in  their  habits  as  their  great 
ancestor.  Simple  in  his  dress,  his  figure  was  imposing. 
Like  Longimanus,  his  arms  reached  below  his  knees,  his 
thighs  Avere  those  of  a  horseman,  and  his  ])rominent  nose, 
black  hair  and  beard,  and  swarthy  Ime,  procured  him  the 
name  of  "  Black  Othman,"  for  black  is  a  color  of  honor  in 
the  East  and  indicates  strength  of  character  as  well  as  bodily 
vigor  and  energy.  Black  Othman  transmitted  his  phj'sical 
characteristics  to  several  generations  of  his  successors,  and, 
for  at  least  three  hundred  years,  there  sat  no  Sultan  on  the 
Ottoman  throne  who  Avas  not   distinguished  for  personal 


courage. 


The  beautiful  tomb  of  the  brave  Othman  is  well  Avorth  a 
visit  even  from  Christians,  who  detest  his  creed  and  abomi- 
nate the  ways  of  his  descendants.  Several  of  the  other  great 
Sultans  are  also  buried  at  Broussa,  in  finely-preserved  mauso- 
leums, in  which  the  tombs  are  covered  with  heavy  black 
draperies,  which  give  a  singularly  dignified  and  sombre 
aspect  to  these  halls  of  death. 


wi 


m<4 

St    :i 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THROUGH    CLASSIC    LANDS  — FROM    CONSTANTINOPLE    TO 
THE  COAST  OF  SPAIN  — IIOMEWAHD  BOUND. 

Off  for  Athens  — On  tlie  Tcliiekatrhoff  —  The  Occident  and  the  Orient  — 
The  Slmrp  Line  of  Demurcation  —  Tenedos  and  Its  Wooden  Horse  — 
What  Maltes  Atliens  Great  To-day?  —  A  Charnung  Journey — The 
Ruined  City  and  its  Thrilling  Story  —  The  Romantic  Way  of  Climbing 
Vesuvius — The  Lake  of  Fire  and  Brimstone — An  Awful  Accident 
—  Where  the  Christians  Fought  with  Wild  Beasts  —  Pisa  and  its  Bell 
Tower  —  The  Campo  Santo  and  its  Sacred  Soil  —  Lazy  Venice  and  its 
Gondolas —  Genoa  the  Superb  —  All  that  We  Found  of  Columbus  —  On 
the  Borders  of  Spain  —  A  Royal  Swimmer  —  Ambitious  Spanish  Girls  — 
Too  Envious  to  be  Courteous  —  A  Memory  of  Lafayette  —  Washer- 
women Object  to  Modern  Conveniences  —  The  Best  Part  of  the  Trip. 


IE  must  be  an  audacious  author  in- 
deed, who  thinks  that  he  can 
compel  the  attention  of  the  world 
to  what  he  may  say  about  much- 
written  Europe,  when  library 
shelves  groan  with  books  con- 
cerning it,  and  thousands  of  vol- 
umes are  added  to  their  list  every 
year.  My  temerity  is  not  of 
such  large  proportions  as  to 
undertake  this  task.  So,  in  a 
single  chapter,  we  will  take  our 
hasty  journey  from  tlie  Bosphorus  to  the  coast  of  Spain. 
We  will  embark,  if  you  please,  my  reader,  as  it  was  our 

good  fortune  actually  to  do.  on  the  Russian  steamer  Tchick- 

(  508  ) 


ON  BOARD  ONE  OP  THE  CZARS  STEAMERS. 


509 


I*  i 


atchof,  which  sails  from  Constantinople  to  Athens.     One  of 
the  linest  steamers  on  which  wo  have  sailed  since  we  left 
home,  is  this  same  Russian  vessel  with  the  iinpronoiinceaiile 
name.     The  staterooms  are  large  and  airy,  the  table  is  most 
bountifully  spread,  the  decks  are  clean  and  broad,  and  the 
saloons  fitted  uj)  in  the  most  elegant  style  of  naval  architect- 
ure and  decoration.     We  are  almost  ready  to  relent  and  to 
shade  down  our  deep-seated  antipathy  to  the  tyrannical  Czar 
when  we  find  that  he  charters  so  fine  a  steamer  to  carry  us 
from  the  Orient  to  the  Occident,  for  this  trip  is  nothing  less 
than  such  a  journey.     The  line  of  denuircation  is  sharj)  and 
distinct.     The  Orient  sweeping  eastward   comes  as  far  as 
Constantinople  and  ends  there,  the  Occident  sweeping  west- 
ward breaks  with  its  waves  of  nineteenth  century  progress, 
unavailingly  on  the  shores  of  Bosphorus.     It  makes  but  little 
impression  even  u})on  Constantinople,  and  none  at  all  upon 
the  country  beyond. 

Not  only  do  we  go  from  the  Orient  to  the  Occident,  but 
from  the  middle  ages  into  modern  times,  from  the  twelfth 
century  into  the  nineteenth,  from  conservatism,  stagnation, 
retrogression,  to  progress,  advancement,  and  the  seething, 
vigorous  life  of  modern  days,  when  we  journey  from  Con- 
stantinople to  Athens. 

Past  ancient  Troy  we  sail,  where,  with  the  help  of  a 
powerful  spy-glass  and  a  still  more  powerful  imagination,  we 
almost  make  ourselves  believe  that  we  can  see  the  excavations 
of  Dr.  Schliemann  ;  past  the  barren  island  of  Tenedos,  where 
in  ancient  times  the  Greeks  made  the  Avooden  horse  by 
means  of  which  they  conquered  Troy. 

Tenedos,  however,  in  ancient  days  must  have  been  a  dif- 
ferent island  from  what  it  is  to-day,  for  there  are  not  enough 
trees  upon  it  now  or  upon  any  of  the  islands  in  the  vicinity 
to  make  a  hobby-horse  for  a  baby,  much  less  an  aninud  with 


!'- 


670 


IN  FAMOUS   ATHENS. 


such  a  capacious  interior  as  that  in  which  the  Greeks  made 
their  famous  entrance  into  Trov.  How  the  Greeks  manafred 
to  get  this  huge  wooden  monstrosity  across  the  wide  stretcli 
of  turbulent  sea  which  runs  between  Tenedos  and  Troy  is 
another  of  the  mysteries  upon  which  histor}'  is  silent.  liut 
we  are  not  iconoclasts,  and  we  do  not  wish  to  suggest  harrow- 
ing doubts  concerning  cherished  fables  to  the  future  genera- 
tions of  classical  scholars. 

We  passed  through  the  beautiful  Hellespont  early  in  the 
morning  and  not  a  great  while  thereafter  reached  the  Py- 
reus,  the  harbor  of  Athens.  To  attem])t  to  "  do  "  Athens  in 
the  space  of  a  few  pages  is  such  a  manifestly  absurd  task 
that  I  will  only  say  that  we  stood  reverently  upon  the  Par- 
thenon while  our  souls  did  reverence  to  the  genius  of  ancient 
days,  embodied  in  the  Propylaeum  and  the  Erechtheum  with 
its  stately  caryatides  ;  that  we  visited  the  Tower  of  the  Winds 
and  the  arch  of  Hadrian  and  the  Temple  of  Theseus ;  that 
we  stood  upon  the  Pnyx  where  Demosthenes  delivered  his 
world-famous  speeches,  and  that  especially  our  souls  did 
homage  to  the  place  most  full  of  great  memories  to  us,  when 
we  stood  upon  Mars  Hill.  Here,  in  imagination,  as  we 
looked  off  upon  the  historic  city  lying  at  our  feet,  with  its 
temples  and  its  altars  and  its  crowded  thoroughfares,  filled 
as  they  were  in  ancient  times,  with  a  volatile,  excitable,  but 
intellectual  people,  we  heard  St.  Paul  saying,  as  he  stood 
upon  this  very  spot :  "  Ye  men  of  Athens,  I  perceive  that  in 
all  things  ye  are  too  superstitious,  for,  as  I  passed  by  and  be- 
held your  devotions  I  found  an  altar  with  the  inscription : 
'To  the  unknown  God.'  Whom,  therefore  ye  ignorantly 
worship.  Him  declare  I  unto  you." 

That  speech,  with  all  that  it  revealed  of  the  fatherhood 
of  God,  and  the  brotherhood  of  men  whom  God  made  "  of 
one  blood  to  dwell  upon  all  the  face  of  the  earth,"  did  more 


BY   SWORD   AND   PEN. 


571 


for  mankind  and  for  the  perijctuatif^n  of  tlie  memory  of 
Athens,  than  all  the  works  of  Phidias  and  the  concjuests  of 
Hadrian  and  the  orations  of  Demosthenes,  which  also  have 
made  the  city  memorable. 

The  thoutjht  is  sure  to  come  to  every  thongiitful  man 
who  stands  on  the  heights  of  the  Parthenon,  "•  What  has 
made  this  little  city  famous  in  all  the  ages  of  the  world  ? " 
Its  situation,  while  beautiful,  is  no  more  remarkable  than 
that  of  scores  of  other  cities  on  the  blue  Mediterranean.  Its 
natural  advantages  are  not  so  great  as  those  of  other  cities 
of  ancient  and  modern  times.  The  tributary  country  is 
comparatively  barren  and  poor,  the  population  was  never 
large,  as  the  great  modern  nations  count  populations. 

What,  then  has  made  Athens  so  famous  in  all  the  history 
of  the  world  ?  There  is  but  one  answer  to  the  question. 
She  was  the  mother  of  heroes  and  the  mother  of  historians. 
Brave  men  won  her  battles  and  true  i)atriots  ornamented  her 
public  squares  and  erected  her  famous  buildings,  and,  more 
than  that,  poets  "were  born  to  sing  their  virtues,  and  histo- 
rians to  record  their  deeds  of  praise.  The  sword  alone  could 
not  have  made  little  Greece  memorable  among  all  the  nations 
of  the  world,  but  the  sword  supplemented  by  the  pen,  the 
great  deed  not  only  done  but  sung,  has  given  her  an  imper- 
ishable name,  and  attracts  to  her  to-day  scholars  and  lovers 
of  everything  that  is  noble  and  beautiful  and  true. 

The  railway  journey  from  Athens  to  Patras  is  one  of  the 
most  charming  which  can  be  taken  in  any  continent.  All 
the  way  the  railroad  runs  Avithin  sight  of  the  sounding  sea, 
affording  most  picturesque  glimpses  of  the  famous  mountains 
of  Greece,  every  one  of  which  has  been  glorified  in  song  and 
story. 

Mount  Olympus  and  Mount  Parnassus,  Pentelicus,  and 
Hymettus,  we  see  them  all,  and  what  classic  memories  they 


m- 


573 


NAPLES  AND  VESUVIUS. 


evoke !  Some  of  these  memories  are  a  little  cloudv,  like  the 
mists  whicli  hover  about  the  tops  of  the  mountains  them- 
selves, but,  nevertheless,  the  mountains  are.  very  real  things 
behind  the  mists,  and  so  are  the  school-dav  memories  which 
cluster  around  them  very  real  to  us,  though  hid  by  the  haze 
of  succeeding  years. 

Another  delightful  journey  is  the  sail  by  steamer  from 
Patras  to  Brindisi  over  the  Ionian  Sea,  a  journey  of  some 
thirty  hours,  with  a  stop  by  the  way  at  Corfu,  one  of  the 
most  lovely  spots  which  the  w^hole  map  of  the  world  affords. 

From  Brindisi  to  Naples  is  an  all-day's  ride  over  one  of 
the  slow  Italian  railways,  but  a  ride  full  of  enjoyment,  as  we 
see  the  fertile  fields,  the  smiling  vineyards,  and  the  flower- 
decked  pastures  of  sunny  Italy.  At  last,  Vesuvius,  with 
a  thin  wreath  of  smoke  curling  from  its  peaks,  breaks  upon 
our  view.  We  rumble  past  the  buried  city  of  Pompeii, 
rattle  over  the  tomb  of  Ilerculaneum,  and  go  puffing  into 
the  great  station  of  Naples  just  as  the  setting  sun  makes 
doubly  glorious  the  always  beautiful  blue  bay. 

Naples  has  few  attractions  in  itself,  but  is  noted  for  the 
beauty  and  interest  of  its  surroundings ;  and  while  Pompeii 
lies  at  its  very  door,  with  the  paint  of  nineteen  hundred 
years  ago  still  fresh  upon  its  ruined'  walls,  with  the  ruts 
worn  by  the  chariots  of  old  still  visible  in  its  streets,  with  the 
shops  of  its  bakers  and  its  oil  merchants  and  its  wine  sellers, 
just  as  they  left  them  when  they  sold  their  last  loaf  of  bread 
and  flask  of  wine  nineteen  centuries  figo,  Naples  will  never 
lose  its  attractiveness  for  the  traveler  and  the  antiquarian. 

More  full  of  unique  and  thrilling  interest  than  almost 
any  spot  on  earth  is  this  ruined  city  which  was  overwhelmed 
by  the  Avrath  of  God  in  a  single  night ;  its  polluted  streets 
and  houses,  whicii  even  now  indicate  depths  of  depi'avity 
that  have  seldom  been  witnessed  in  the  history  of  the  world, 


A  LAKE  OF  MOLTEN  FIRE. 


573 


ruined  and  utterly  destroyed  as  habitations  for  the  living. 
Surely  the  moralist  will  be  excused  for  drawing  his  lesson 
from  the  destruction  of  this  comparatively  modern  Sodom 
and  Gomorrah. 

There  are  two  ways  of  ascending  Vesuvius.  Tlie  old- 
fashioned  way  takes  us  on  horsobfjk  from  the  guides'  house 
near  Pompeii  through  vineyards  and  villages,  and  across  the 
ashes  and  pumice  and  scoriae  of  a  hundred  eruptions,  to  the 
base  of  the  volcanic  cone  itself.  Then  we  dismount  from  our 
horses,  leave  them  in  the  hands  of  some  villainous-looking 
guides  who  are  waiting  to  devour  as  much  of  the  substance 
of  the  average  traveler  as  they  can  lay  hands  on  without 
getting  into  jail,  and  then  make  the  sharp,  steep  climb  on 
foot  to  the  very  summit.  This  is  not  a  holiday  task,  by  any 
means,  and  I  do  not  recommend  it  to  those  who  do  not  have 
stout  muscles  and  strong  lungs  and  a  good  degree  of  physical 
endurance.  It  is,  however,  the  more  picturesque  and  ro- 
mantic method,  for  the  other  way  takes  us  by  railway  to 
within  a  few  rods  of  the  very  top.  Then  we  pick  our  way 
cautiously  over  the  steaming  vent  holes  and  across  the  hot 
sulphur  and  burning  ashes  until  we  stand  on  the  ridge  of 
the  crater,  and  hear  below  us  the  sullen,  awful  "swash"  of 
the  lake  of  fire  and  brimstone. 

One  cannot  always  see  the  seething  lake  itself  because  it 
is  generally  hidden  by  the  almost  continuous  sulphurous 
fumes  which  rise  froin  its  surface.  But  that  which  is  not 
visible  to  one  sense  is  audible  to  another,  and  the  beatino-  of 
that  lake  of  molten  fire  upon  the  sides  of  the  imprisoning 
mountain  seemed  to  me  the  most  awful  sound  I  ever  heard. 
More  vivid  than  ever  before  was  the  dreadful  Scripture 
imagery  which  typilies  of  the  final  destruction  of  those  Avho 
hate  all  that  is  good  and  true. 

A  few  days  after  a  visit  which  I  once  paid  to  this  crater, 


■  I '  ■ 


I 

8 


i 

'  I 

I 

i  ^ 

.in 

if 
i 

I 

'  ■■  f.\ 
m'i 

m 


\k 


574     WHERE  CHRISTIANS  FOUGHT  WITH  WILD  BEASTS. 

two  gentlemen  were  standing  on  the  very  edge,  where  a  little 
while  before  I  had  stood  unconscious  of  anv  danger,  when 
the  fumes  from  the  pit  being  blown  that  way  by  a  pecu- 
liarly strong  gust  of  wind  they  were  overcome  by  it. 
Blinded  and  suffocated  they  fell  headlong  into  the  dreadful 
lake  which  boiled  and  blistered  beneath.  The  only  circum- 
stance which  mitigates  the  dreadful  accident  was  that  their 
sufferings  must  have  been  absolutely  momentary. 

When  we  reach  Eome,  as  Ave  shall  after  three  days  in 
Naples,  how  can  we  hope  to  even  touch  upon  its  grandeur 
and  beauty!  We  are  tilled  with  the  hopelessness  of  our 
task  at  the  very  beginning,  and  the  longer  we  stay  roaming 
through  its  miles  of  picture  galleries,  visiting  its  acres  of 
statuary,  strolling  into  church  after  church,  each  one  of 
which  is  worth  a  week  of  study,  roaming  among  the  ruins  of 
the  palaces  of  a  score  of  Caesars,  we  are  ready  to  aver  that 
one  cannot  hope  to  see  Home  thoroughly  unless  he  has 
months  at  his  disposal. 

Among  all  the  sights  of  ruined  Rome  the  Colosseum 
impresses  me  most  deeply.  Here  the  imagination  has 
full  play.  Here  the  poetic  fancy  can  ask  for  nothing 
more.  Story  on  story  rise  the  tiers  of  seats  for  the  spec- 
tators who  rejoiced  in  the  bloody  tragedies  of  those  cruel 
days.  Eighty  thousand  people  could  here  be  accommodated, 
and  in  the  ampitheatre  upon  which  all  these  tiers  of  seats 
look  down,  how  many  dreadful  tragedies  were  enacted! 

Here  came  the  Christians  to  fight  with  the  Avild  beasts. 
Here  came  the  gladiators  to  struggle  in  mortal  combat,  with 
never  a  merciful  thumb  raised  from  the  spectators  who 
enjoyed  their  agony.  Here  assembled  the  beauty  and 
chivalry,  the  aristocracy  and  royalty  of  Rome  In  her  most 
glorious  days,  but  at  the  heart  of  this  royalty  and  chivalry 
and  beauty  was  the  corrupting  worm  of  selfishness,  cruelty, 


THE  LESSON  OF  A  RUIN. 


575 


corruption,  and  tyranny.  The  Colosseum  is  a  type  of  all 
that  is  grandest  and  of  all  that  was  basest  in  ancient 
Rome.  It  is  the  living  exhibition  in  substantial  stone  and 
mortar  of  her  grandest  days  and  her  weakest  days,  of 
her  power  and  her  poverty  alike. 

We  are  glad  that  it  is  now  a  ruin,  for  the  Colosseum 
was  always  dedicated  to  that  which  was  mean  and  tase. 
We  are  glad  that  the  ruin  still  stands,  for  it  teaches  the 
whole  world  that  material  power  and  grandeur  and  wealth, 
beyond  anything  which  the  ages  have  known  before  or 
since,  are  not  sufficient  of  themselves  to  make  a  nation  truly 
great  or  permanently  powerful. 

Of  course  we  will  go  into  St.  Peter's  before  we  leave  the 
ancient  city.  It  is  the  fashion  for  many  travelers  to  say  that 
they  are  disappointed  in  St.  Peter's,  and  no  doubt  such  a 
feeling  does  come  to  one  as  he  looks  first  at  the  unworthy 
and  meaningless  fayade  which  greets  him  as  he  walks  up  to 
the  entrance.  But  all  sense  of  disappointment  disappeared, 
so  far  as  I  was  concerned,  when  I  entered  its  vast  por- 
tals and  found  myself  beneath  its  mighty  domes.  Every- 
thing that  marble  and  gilding;  frescoing  and  mosaic 
work  can  do  to  make  a  building  sublimely,  grandly  beautiful, 
has  here  been  done.  Tlie  wealth  and  genius  of  the  ages 
have  been  lavished  upon  this  wonderful  church,  and  we  do 
not  wonder  that  it  is  the  IMecca  of  every  devout  Catliolic. 

To  the  Protestant,  however,  accustomed  to  the  more 
severe  simplicity  of  his  own  modest  sanctuaries,  there  is  very 
much  that  is  wanting,  even  in  this  magnificent  church, 
to  make  it  all  that  he  dreams  concerning  the  constant 
abiding  place  of  God.  Here  the  Pope  seems  to  be  glorified 
more  than  the  Master  of  the  Pope.  St.  Peter  is  more 
conspicuous  than  the  one  Avho  said  to  him,  "  Henceforth 
thou  shalt  be  called  Peter,  for  on  this  rock  will  I  build 


. 


676  A  STORY  OF  THE  CRUSADERS. 

my  church,"  and  the  Virgin  ]\Iary  is  vastly  more  honored 
than  her  Divine  Son.  With  an  unsatished,  Imngering  sense 
of  want,  the  Protestant  Christian  is  Hkely  to  go  out  from 
this  gorgeous  catliedral,  feeling  that  amid  all  the  gilding  and 
painting,  the  statuary  and  the  famous  shrines,  he  has 
not  found  God  or  drawn  any  nearer  to  the  Saviour's  side. 

AYhere  else  shall  I  conduct  mv  readers  in  this  land  of 
Italy,  crowded  as  it  is  with  places  of  sujireme  historic 
interest?  Shall  we  go  to  Pisa  and  visit  its  cathedrals 
and  its  haptistry,  its  Leaning  Bell  Tower  and  its  Cam})o 
Santo  ?  "We  should  certainly  enjoy  the  day  there,  for  all 
its  sights  are  crowded  close  together,  and  one  has  no 
wearying  walk  to  take  in  going  from  one  to  another. 

The  Campo  Santo,  or  sacred  })lace  of  burial,  is  to  me  the 
most  interesting  spot  in  little  Pisa.  Here,  seven  centuries 
ago,  the  Crusaders  brought  shipload  after  shipload  of  sacred 
soil  from  Jerusalem,  Avhither  they  had  sailed  from  Pisa 
when  it  was  a  great  commercial  port.  Their  ships  went  out 
crowded  Avith  eager,  adventurous  3"ouths,  many  of  whom, 
alas,  were  to  hiy  their  bones  in  the  land  of  Palestine  or  on 
the  way  thither,  and  the  shi})s  which  sailed  forth  bearing  the 
pride  and  bloom  of  Italian  chivalry  came  back  loaded  only 
with  dust  and  ashes  from  the  Sacred  City.  Fifty -three 
shiploads  of  this  sacied  soil  were  deposited  in  this  great 
rectangular  enclosure,  and  here  many  Crusaders  and  other 
famous  men  were  buried.  From  the  walls  around  the 
Campo  Santo,  on  every  side,  look  down  pictures  of  Biblical 
scenes  painted  by  the  most  famous  artists  centuries  ago, 
pictures  which  are  still  bright  and  fresh  and  vivid  as  though 
the  colors  were  laid  on  but  yesterday. 

Shall  we  go  to  Florence  together  and  visit  the  miles  of 
picture  galleries,  its  beautiful  park  and  its  lovely  drives 
along  the  historic  Arno?     Shall  we  feed  our  souls  on  the 


IN  COLUMBUS'S  BIRTHPLACE. 


577 


memories  of  the  great  deeds  wliicli  were  done  l.v  tlie  great 
men  of  Florence  in  tlie  days  of  lier  pride  and  stren°gth? 
When  my  readers  do  take  tliis  journey,  not  in  tliis  hasty 
fasliion,  but  in  reality,  they  will  agree  Avith  me,  I  am 
sure,  that  no  days  are  moi-e  pleasantly  spent  than  those  that 
are  devoted  to  charming  Florence. 

P>ut  Ave  must  hurry  on,  not  even  sto])ping  to  spend  a  few 
lazy  days  in  the  gondolas  of  ^^^lice,  feeding  the  i)igeons  in 
St.   Mark's   Scjuare,   or  watching  the   glass-blowers  in  the 
factories  which  line  the  great  canal,  for  we  must  tar.-v  at 
least  a  time  in  Genoa,  the  8u])erb.     With  our  souls  fired 
with  admiration  for  Columbus,  Genoa  presents  a  magnet 
quite  too  strong  to  be  resisted,  and  yet  when  we  reacirthe 
city  of  his  birthplace,  we  find  remarkal)]y  f.  ,v  memorials  of 
the  great  discoverer.     Tlie  house  in  which  he  Avas  boi-n,  or  in 
which  he   is  said  by  some  i)eo})le  to   have   been  born,  is 
situated  several  miles  beyond  the  city  limits,  and  an  auto- 
graph  letter  in   one  of    the  museums    is  about  the   only 
authentic  memorial  of  him  Avhich  avo  find. 

But,  after  all,  tliese  material  relics  and  memorials  im- 
pressed me  not  nearly  as  much  as  the  intangible  things  all 
around  which  are  connected  with  his  memory.  Underlhese 
blue  Italian  skies  the  little  Columbus  played,  and  this  lovely 
view  of  earth  and  sea  and  sky  doubtless  impressed  his 
imagination  and  nourished  the  poetic  germs  within  his  soul, 
which  made  him  the  great  discoverer  of  the  ages. 

As  we  mounted  to  the  heights  of  the  beautiful  park  and 
looked  off  over  the  housetops  at  the  blue  ]\rediterranean 
wnnpling  and  dimpling  in  the  sunlight,  we  said  to  ourselves, 
"  Upon  these  very  wavelets  looked  Columbus.  His  boyish 
eyes  AA-ere  strained  to  see  the  furthest  limits  bounded  by 
the  whitecaps  in  the  distance,  and  his  eager  imagination, 
perhaps,  as  he  stood  upon  this  very  height  of  land,  asked,' 


678 


ALONG  THE  RIVIERA. 


'  What  is  beyond  the  limits  of  the  blue  sea  and  the  white- 
caps  which  bound  my  horizon  { ' "  The  answer  to  this  ques- 
tion, which  in  some  form  or  other  every  generous  youth  puts 
to  himself  as  he  grows  older,  was,  in  the  case  of  Columbus, 
the  discovery  of  America  and  the  opening  of  a  new  world 
to  commerce  and  civilization,  and  the  religion  of  Christ. 

After  leaving  Genoa  our  journey  took  us  along  the 
Eiviera,  where  charming  views  are  marred  somewhat  by 
innumerable  tunnels  through  which  the  railroad  passes. 
Through  Nice  and  Mentone,  famous  the  world  over  as  win- 
tering ])laces  for  the  aristocracy  of  Europe,  through  Monte 
Carlo  and  Monaco,  the  plague  s])ot  of  Europe,  whose  wonder- 
ful natural  beauties  are  more  than  matched  by  the  unnatural 
depravity  of  its  chief  business ;  through  busy  Marseilles, 
through  Narbonne  and  Pau  and  Cette,  until  at  last  we  come 
to  the  very  borders  of  Spain,  and,  crossing  the  boundary 
line,  we  enter  into  the  countrv  of  the  haughtv  cavalier. 

JU  San  Sebastian,  one  of  the  border  towns,  w^ich  is  most 
delightfully  situated  on  the  Bay  of  Biscay  Avith  green  hills 
surrounding  it  on  every  side,  is  the  new  palace  of  the  Queen 
of  Spain,  and  we  were  permitted  to  go  over  this  abode  of 
roj^alty  from  garret  to  cellar.  Though  it  is  a  fine  building 
and  Avortliy  of  the  gracious  queen  who  will  occupy  it  during 
the  summer  months,  yet  it  is  no  more  imposing  or  magnifi- 
cent than  the  houses  of  a  hundred  millionaires  Avhich  I  have 
seen  in  the  United  States. 

Some  of  the  rooms  in  the  palace  are  designed  for  the 
occupancy  of  generals  in  the  army  and  the  courtiers,  and 
are  decidedly  mean  and  narrow.  They  are  plainly  furnished, 
only  a  few  feet  square,  and  frequently  have  but  one  windoAV 
in  them.  The  room  which  her  Majesty  herself  is  to  occupy, 
and  the  adjoining  room  of  the  Baby  King  w^hose  face  appears 
on  all  Spanish  postage  stamps,  are  fine  apartments,  and  so 


A  LITTLE  king's  PASTIME. 


579 


lo-nili- 
have 


\>Y  the 
and 
lished, 
indow 
|jcupy, 
spears 
Ind  so 


are  the  state  parlors  and  banqueting  rooms.  But  there  is 
nothing  extravagant  or  hivish,  or  even  particularly  sump- 
tuous, aboat  the  whole  place. 

The  most  notable  thing  about  the  palace  is  the  view  from 
the  front  entrance.  It  looks  out  upon  the  beautiful  Bay  of 
San  Sebastian,  with  a  broad,  sandy  beach  stretching  in  the 
foreground,  while  off  in  the  distance  is  the  entrance  to  the 
harbor  with  bold,  precipitous  bluffs  on  either  side,  crowned 
by  picturescjue  forts  and  lighthouses.  The  (jueen  is  a  fa- 
mous athlete  in  her  vray,  and  especially  enjoys  bathing  in 
the  surf.  So  strong  a  swimmer  is  slie,  that  she  is  said  fre- 
quently to  swim  out  to  the  beautiful  island  in  the  bay,  a 
good  mile  from  the  shore.  The  little  king  meanwhile  plays 
upon  the  sand  with  his  painted  tin  pail  and  little  shovel,  at 
least  as  happy,  Ave  hope,  as  any  little  Spanish  ragamuffin 
whose  privileges  in  sand  and  water  and  fresh  air  and  de- 
lightful scener}'^  are  just  as  great  as  those  of  the  small  royal 
personage  himself. 

The  object  of  supreme  interest  to  us  in  San  Sebastian, 
however,  was  not  the  palace  or  any  of  the  tra])j)ings  of 
royalty,  or  even  the  most  beautiful  bay  with  its  encircling 
mountains,  but  the  Institute  for  Spanish  girls  which  has  here 
been  planted  by  American  missionaries.  Here  are  gathered 
several  scores  of  black-eyed,  bright,  intelligent  Spanish 
maidens,  who  Avill  lead  the  way  in  the  education  of  the 
women  of  this  country,  which  I  believe  is  about  to  awaken  to 
a  new  period  of  youth  and  vigor. 

Such  an  institution  is  particularly  needed  in  this  land,  for 
women  here,  as  in  every  Catholic  country,  have  been  system- 
atically kept  in  ignorance  and  bound  by  superstitious 
fears.  For  the  first  time  in  all  the  history  of  Spain,  a  few 
months  ago,  some  of  the  girls  from  this  institution  dared  to 
present  themselves  for  examination  at  the  Government  uni- 

35 


680 


ADVANCKI)    YOlNd    WOMKN        IN   SPAIN. 


vtM'sity,  comp'  tiiijr  U)V  tho  siinio  honors  wliicli  tlicir  hrotliors 
iiad  r<)i'iiu!i'ly  inoiiopoli/.cd  ;ilt()<^('tli(!r.  It  Wiis  u  ^I'ciit  <liiy 
ior  the  Aniuricaii  Institute!  lor  (Jirls  and  a  jiioplM'tic  day  for 
S|>ain,  for  sovc^ral  of  tli(!  <^irls  passrd  llir  ('.\aininati<>ns  and 
(!anio  oir  with  llyin^-  coloi's.  Tiiey  wtn'o  not  iiUowtid  to  foi'- 
^•('t,  ho\v(!V(M',  tiiat  they  holon/^cid  to  an  infci'ioi'  sex,  for  as 
they  wont  U|)  to  iHH'oivo  tlicii'  «liph>nias  they  wore  iiisscd  hy 
tho  unchivah'ons  yonn<^  nion.  This  un<^racious  act,  howcivcr, 
rcactinl  on  tho  heads  of  tho  youn^'  hooi's  who  por|>ot!'at('d  it. 
Tho  prof(\ssors  of  tho  univoi'sity  (Mnn|)ollod  th«;in  to  olfor  a 
8uital)lo  and  hurnhh;  apoh)<;'y  foi'  their  Iroatinont  of  tho  ^irls, 
and  Ihdi  pro(HMl(Mit  was  ostahlishod  that  horoaftcM",  in  sonio 
pai'ts  of  Spain  at  hsast,  a,  youn<^'  lady  of  intolii^onco  and 
attaimnonts  will  ho  i"('co;;ni/od  hy  tho  odncational  authorities 
of  th(;  land  of  Foi'dinand  and  Isalu>lla. 

How  hottoi'  could  Anioi'iea  re|)ay  tho  dcjht  which  she 
owes  to  Spain  than  l)y  lihorally  ondowin*;'  this  scihool, 
and  hy  aidin*;'  to  establish  others  for  the  education  of  tho 
lon<;'-n<'^l(!cte(l    women   of  ('astile^ 

A  voi'y  f(!W  miles  fi'om  San  Sebastian  is  th(;  old  Spanish 
seaport  of  I*assa<;('s,  a  i)ort  which  was  once  famous  in  its 
way,  and  from  whi(;h  Lafayt^tte  slipped  away  when,  in 
opposition  to  the  wishes  of  tho  j^ovornment  and  liis  friends, 
lie  espoused  tho  caus(!  of  American  libei'ty  and  d(K;i(led  to 
stand  side  by  side  with  Washington  and  Franklin  and  .loH'or- 
son.  For  many  years  tho  ontranco  to  the  harbor  has  boon 
almost  imi)assable,  so  llUod  up  has  it  l)ocoine  with  the  silt 
washed  down  from  tho  mountain  sides  which  hem  in  tho 
narrow  ])assago  on  every  hand.  Of  late  years,  however,  new 
attention  nas  been  j)aid  to  the  hai'l)or,  (lred<^ing  machines 
have  made  an  entrance  for  steamers  of  considerable  size,  and 
the  old  i)lace  is  renewing  its  youth. 

It  retains  its  ancient  characteristics,  however,  and  its  one 


A    CONSKHVATIVK  OLD   TOWN. 


081 


ish 

its 

in 
nils, 

to 
irei'- 
)cen 

silt 

tho 

new 

liines 

,  and 


Htr«'«'t  wliicli  cniwls  iiloii^  at  tlir  Itaso  of  tlir  liillsidc  against 
wliicli  tlx;  town  is  hiiilt  is  so  narcow  as  to  he  inipassaMc  to 
wlu'cUid  vcliiclc'S  ami  to  allord  scarcely  I'ooin  l'«)r  two  passing 
<lonkcvs,  Ih'i'cold  Spanish  (Mistonis  and  pi'cjndiccs  llomish 
with  all  the  loi'ce  of  ancient  times,  just  as  though  the  thriv- 
ing, l)Mstlin<;,  modern  city  of  San  Sehiistian  was  n<»t  within 
hailing' distance.  Here  the  |)eopl<5  liv(%  move,  an<l  ha vi;  their 
bein^,  hake  tlu;ir  bread  and  eat  their  ^ai'lic  and  wash  their 
clothes,  just  as  they  did  live  hundred  years  a<:;o. 

TIk;  lattei"  opei'ation  is  performed  by  women  who  stand 
in  the  watcu"  up  to  their  kne(>s,  and  cold,  icy  spriiif.^  water  it 
is,  too,  while  they  pound  and  rub  and  beat  the  vi^ry  life  out 
of  their  ^^ai'iiu'iits  on  Hat  stones  in  the  bed  of  the  sticam.  A 
few  years  since,  the  town  pi'cA'ided  a  bi'tter  place  for  them, 
but  this  thoughtful  pi'ovision  almost  ))rovoked  a  riot.  They 
d«H-lai'e(l  that  what,  hiid  been  ncxxl  enou<;'h  foi'  their  ^I'jmd- 
dams  was  triunl  enough  foi'  them,  that  th(;y  would  have  none 
of  th«!  new-fan<;led,  niodei'ii  wash  tubs  even  though  tlu^y 
were  [>rovi<le(l  at  public;  exp(;ns(%  and  that  they  would  still 
staml  up  to  theii'  knees  in  watei*  if  they  chose  to  do  so. 
Tla;  authoritic's  had  to  ^iv(!  way,  and  the  new  and  beautiful 
stouii  wash  tubs  fell  into  innocuous  desuetudes 

We  will  follow  Lafay(!tt(;'s  (^xanipl(%  and,  leavin<;-  well- 
known  Paris  ami  the  ohl  mother  country  to  thosi;  who  have 
seen  and  (les(!ril)e<l  tla>m  so  often,  we  will  embark  for 
Amei'ica  in  ima<.;ination  from  this  very  Spanish  |)ort,  echoing 
the  sentiment  which  has  been  rin<rinn-  through  our  hearts  a 
hundred  thousand  times  durinn-  this  lon^  journey,  that  no 
country  is  for  us  so  precious  as  the  land  over  Avhich  the 
Stars  and  Stripes  wave,  and  that  nothing  about  jj;'oin«^ 
abroad  is  so  altoj^ether  delightful  and  satisfactory  as  tho 
getting  home  again. 


Is  one 


fill 


CHAPTER  XX XL 

OBJKCTS  f^'l)  UEHl'I/rS  OF  OUH  JOUUNEY  — TIIP:  FAVOHING 
HAM)  OF  I'KOVIDENCi:  — LO(UvlN(;  HACKWAUI)  -  HAI'I'Y 
MEMOUIEH. 

Tlio  Ctit'ut  OJijf'ct  (tf  our  Journey  —  Australian  Conventions  —  Unbounded 
Entliusiasin  —  Tiu!  Y.  P.  S.  (.'.  E.  I'ennanl  —  Happy  Memories— la 
Marvelous  Japan  —  A  "  United  Society  "  for  China  —  Anionj,'  tlie  Hin- 
dus—  Olislacles  in  Turkey  —  For))idd(!ii  Words  —  Arrest itiff  St.   Paul 

—  niaek  Eyed  S|tanisli  Endeavorers —  Eneoura^^enient  in  I'aris — (jlood 
News  from  the-  Mother  Land  —  Steady  (jirowtii  of  En<leavor  Societies  — 
Impressions  of  Missionaries  and  Their  Work —  Cruel  Misre|)resentaUon» 

—  (iloix!  Trotters'  Slanders — A  Diversity  of  (lifts — What  are  tlio 
Hardsiupsofa  Missionary  to-day? — The  Most  Hopeful  Feature  of  Mod- 
ern Civilization  —  The  Anglo-Saxon  Missionary  and  His  Noble  Work  — 
Kuving  the  World  through  Jesus  Christ. 


HE  ^^rout  object  of  the  journey 
wliicii  lias  been  described  in  the 
previous  cluipters,  Wc'is  tlie  ad- 
vancement  of  the  Christian  En- 
deavor movement  in  foreign 
countries,  and  tlie  visiting  of 
missionary  stations  in  heathen 
and  Mohammedan  lands,  for  the 
purpose  of  accjuainting  meml)ers 
of  these  societies  in  America 
more  thoroughly  with  the  needs 
and    privileges    of    missionary 

work  all  the  Avorld  over. 

In  every  particular,  the  journey  has  been  more  blessed  of 

Providence  and  prospered  by  God's  favoring  hand  than  I 

dared  to  believe  would  be  possible  when  we  undertook  it. 

(582) 


ENTHL'HIAHTIC   AUSTRALIANS. 


583 


the 
lul- 

i<rn 
of 
jcn 
the 
)ors 
rica 
Beds 


No  accident  or  scM'ious  detention  or  illness  deljiyed  us  durinir 
our  year  of  travel.  No  ajjpointinent  was  niissi'd,  no  address 
failed  to  be  deliv«!red  ainonj^  the  two  liundnMl  and  fifty 
which  ina<le  the  year  such  a  husy  on«'.  Everywhere  the 
(Christian  Endeavor  idea  was  received  with  surprising  favor. 

To  ho  sure,  we  went  only  where  wo  were  ask(Ml  to  f,'o,  and 
a<Mi'essed  nieetinj^s  that  had  been  previously  ai'ranged  by 
kind  friends.  And  yet  with  all  these  fa voriujLj  circumstances, 
I  did  not  dare  to  liojjo  for  such  enthusiastic  conventions,  such 
eager  throngs  of  earnest  young  men  and  women,  and  such 
large  favor  as  was  accorded  to  this  youngest  child  of  the 
church,  The  Young  Peojjle's  Society  of  ('hristian  Endeavor. 

In  Australia  the  conventions  were,  beyond  all  precedent, 
large,  entlmsiastic,  and  inspiring.  The  greatest  audience 
rooms  that  could  be  obtained  in  such  places  as  Mell)ourne, 
I'allai'at,  Adcilaide,  and  IJrisbane,  were  crowded  to  their 
utmost,  and  the  spirituality  and  intense;  earnestness  and  devo- 
tion of  the  conventions  were  (piite  as  noticeable  as  the  large 
throngs  which  attended  them.  The  conventions  usually  be- 
gan, practically  if  not  formally,  at  the  railway  stations,  wliich 
were  usually  crowded  with  singing  Endeavorei's  when  we 
arrived,  and  who  carried  their  good  cheer  and  gladness  and 
contagious  enthusiasm  Avith  them  wherever  they  went. 

Even  the  railway  officials  and  the;  citv  authorities  of  the 
town  often  seemed  to  catch  the  spirit  of  enthusiastic  youth, 
and  accorded  us  courtesies  and  kindly  consideration  which 
were  far  beyond  the  nuM'its  of  the  humbh;  individuals  who 
came  to  advocate  the  claims  of  Chi'istian  Endeavor;  and  yet 
we  realized  from  the  beginning  of  our  joui-ney  to  the  end, 
that  not  the  individuals  who  brought  the  message,  but  the 
society  which  they  re])rcsented,  was  honored,  and  every 
greeting  and  welcome  and  liearty  hand-grasj)  told  chiefly  of 
the  hjve  which  the  young  peo})le  and  their  pastors  and  their 


684 


A   SKJNIFirANT   WELCOME. 


fathers  and  mothers  had  for  this  new  agency  which  (rod  lias 
raised  up  *'  For  Christ  and  the  (Jluircli." 

One  of  the  most  significant  of  these  welcomes,  and  one 
wiiose  kindly  tlioiightfidness  we  sliall  never  forget,  greeted 
us  when  llrst  we  reached  the  bhdf  headlands  of  Sydney 
lijirl)or,  where  we  saw  a  steam  launch  a|)])roacliing  our 
steamer,  Hying  two  pennants,  from  one  masthead  the  Stars 
and  Strij)es,  and  from  another  a  Hag  hearing  the  letters 
"  Y.  P.  S.  V.  E."  From  that  moment  to  the  day  when,  six 
Aveeks  later,  we  sailed  from  the  harbor  of  Brisbane  for  the 
port  of  Hong  Kong,  when  the  last  sound  that  we  heard  Avas 
the  sweet  music  of  ljrisl)ane  Endeavorers,  singing,  "  God  be 
•with  you  till  we  meet  again,"  every  hour  was  crowded  with 
pleasjmt  experiences,  and  lives  as  a  happy  memory  of  the 
great  Island  Continent. 

During  the  months  which  have  elapsed  between  that  visit 
and  the  date  of  the  publication  of  this  book,  Christian 
Endeavor  Societies  have  multiplied  at  a  most  gratifying  rate 
throughout  all  the  colonies,  until  now  there  are  probably  at 
least  seven  hundred  societies  in  this  group  of  sister  nations 
which  lie  under  the  Southern  Cross,  while  their  numbers 
are  increasing  quite  as  rapidly  in  the  land  whose  people  look 
up  at  the  familiar  constellations  of  Orion  and  the  Great  Bear. 

In  the  mighty  land  of  Asia  with  its  uncounted  millions, 
in  Japan,  China,  and  India,  we  found  a  large  and  most  en- 
couraging field  also  for  the  growth  of  Christian  Endeavor 
societies.  In  Japan,  that  marvelous  new  land  which  is 
springing  forward  by  leaps  and  bounds  into  the  family  of 
great  nations,  there  are  already  some  forty  Endeavor  soci- 
eties established  in  connection  with  the  missions  of  the 
various  Protestant  denominations.  Several  little  booklets 
have  been  translated  into  Japanese  and  widely  circulated, 
and  much  hope  is  expresseil   by   missionaries   and   native 


OVn   WORK    IN   INDIA   AND  CHINA. 


585 


ted, 


[ive 


pastors  of  the  t'lituro  cllicieiicy  of  this  new  iigency  of  Chris- 
tian nurture. 

Ill  China  a  Cnited  Society  ot"  Ciiristiaii  Endeavor  has 
been  estahlislied  with  its  head(|uarters  at  Siian<^liai.  The 
constitution  ami  other  literature  has  been  translated  into 
several  <lialects,  and  two  «jr  three  lar<<elv  circulated  Chinese 
])apers  give  constant  attention,  by  means  of  special  depart- 
ments, to  the  woi'k  of  the  society  and  its  lujssibilities  in  the 
Flowery  Kingdom. 

In  India  much  satisfactory  work  is  being  |)lanned  and 
executed.  The  constitution  of  the  society  has  been  trans- 
lated into  Tamil  and  Telugu  and  Dengali  and  Hindustani 
and  ^[arathi.  Manv  vigo.  )us  societies  alreadv  exist  in  con- 
nection  with  various  missions,  and  it  is  hoped  that  a  multi- 
tude of  struij^o'lin'''  communities  of  Christians  am'  out- 
stations  where  only  a  few  can  be  gathered  together,  and 
where  there  are  not  a  sufficient  number  of  Christians  to  form 
a  regular  church,  an  organization  of  this  sort  with  its  })ledge 
and  its  obligations  of  voluntary  religious  service  mav  do 
much  in  the  Avay  of  establishing  firm  and  steadfast  the 
much-tried  faith  of  the  new  converts. 

In  Turkey  all  religious  work  meets  with  greater  obstacles 
than  in  any  other  land  at  the  present  time,  and  the  Christian 
Endeavor  Society  comes  in  for  its  full  share  of  persecution 
and  opposition.  Many  societies  have  been  l)roken  u}),  and 
many  others  which  Avould  have  been  formed  have  been 
delayed  because  of  the  threatening  attitude  of  the  govern- 
ment toward  every  i)ossible  plan  for  the  union  of  young 
people  in  religious  work. 

A  humorous  stoi'v  is  told  to  the  effect  that  a  copy  of  the 
Epistle  of  Paul  to  the  Galatians  was  submitted  to  the 
Turkish  censor  for  his  inspection.  He  was  at  once  greatly 
alarmed  and  incensed  thereby,  for  he  interpreted  it  as  being 


586  A   HUMOROUS   STORY. 

a  letter  to  the  inhabitants  of  Galata,  which  is  one  of  the 
divisions  into  whicli  tlie  modern  city  of  Constantino})le  is 
divided.  In  liis  hot  wrath  he  at  once  sent  u  constable  to  the 
mission  to  ap})rehen(l  this  agitator  Paul  who  was  writing  in- 
cendiary letters  to  the  people  of  Galata.  "When  told  that 
the  said  Paul  had  been  dead  for  fully  ISOO  years,  and  that 
he  could  not  answer  to  the  summons  of  the  Turkish  govern- 
ment, and  that  all  I'le  peoi)le  to  whom  he  wrote  had 
also  been  in  their  graves  for  almost  two  milleniums,  his 
wrath  cooled  somewhat,  and  he  concluded  to  dismiss  his 
posse  of  constables  without  arresting  tlie  apostle. 

This  story  simply  shows,  as  do  other  instances  which 
were  related  in  previous  chapters,  the  absurd  prejudices  and 
stupid  ignorance  with  which  religious  work  of  all  kinds  has 
to  contend  in  the  Ottoman  Emi)ire,  and  the  end  of  many  of 
these  stories  is  more  tragic  than  humorous. 

Still,  in  spite  of  these  obstacles,  Christian  Endeavor  work 
and  all  other  kinds  of  Ciiristian  entei'prise  ;,re  holding  on  their 
way,  waiting  and  hoping  for  better  times  in  the  Dominion  of 
the  Turk. 

In  S})ain,  we  found  among  the  Spanish  girls  and  their 
teachers  enthusiastic  Endeavorers,  and  tiiese  girls  will  carry 
the  ])lans  and  methods  of  the  society,  as  tho\'  finish  their 
education  and  return  to  their  home,  into  all  parts  of  the 
ancient  kingdom  of  Castile. 

In  France,  too,  we  found  very  much  to  encourage  us.  A 
large  nuiss  meeting  drawn  from  the  seven  (/hristian  En- 
deavor societies  of  Paris,  whose  nund^ers  liave  since  been 
multiplied,  greeted  us  in  the  hall  of  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.,  and 
hundreds  of  French  Protestant  pastors  and  i-eligious  workers 
came  together  in  one  of  the  halls  of  the  McCall  mission  to 
talk  over  the  adaptabilities  of  Christian  Endeavor  to  their 
work  and  workers. 


MEMORABLE   MEETINfiS. 


58^ 


their 
iirry 
their 
the 

A 

En- 
V)eeii 

tind 
L'kers 
Im  to 
Itlieir 


My  visit  to  Engljind  on  this  occasion,  wliicii  is  not  re- 
corded in  the  cliupters  of  this  book,  since  it  is  so  (Utiicult  to 
find  "fresh  tiekls  and  pastures  new"  in  tiie  well-traveled  soil 
of  the  mother  countrv,  was  the  third  which  I  have  made 
within  the  last  few  years  in  the  interests  of  the  Christian 
Endeavor  movement,  and  was  by  fai*  the  most  encoura»^in<^ 
of  all. 

I  had  the  ])leasure  of  speakint^"  to  large  and  enthusiastic 
audiences  in  London,  Birmingham,  Manchester,  l])swich, 
Glasgow,  Belfast,  Chester,  and  Liverjwol,  and  of  attending 
the  third  annual  Christian  Endeavor  convention  of  the 
British  societies  —  an  adnurable  and  memorable  meeting. 
Everywhere  I  found  the  same  spirit,  devotion,  and  loyal  zeal 
which  I  am  accustomed  to  lincl  in  America,  and  evervwhere 
pastors  gave  me  tlieii'  assurance,  that  though  the  growth  of 
the  society  was  less  rapid  at  lirst  than  in  its  home-land,  it 
was  destined  to  do  no  less  good  and  to  become  quite  as  im- 
portant a  factor  in  church  life  in  England  as  in  America. 

"Within  a  vear  of  the  time  of  this  last  visit,  the  societies 
have  multiplied  from  less  than  three  hundred  to  nearly  seven 
hundred  ;  strong  (yhi'istian  Endeavor  Unions  have  been  estab- 
lished in  most  of  the  leading  centers  of  population,  and  the 
outlook  for  the  future  was  never  so  bright  as  to-day. 

I  must  add,  in  a  few  words,  my  general  impression  in  re- 
ffiird  to  missionary  work  the  world  over;  for  to  I'ectifv  and 
clarify  and  intensify  these  imj)ressions  in  my  own  mind  and 
the  minds  of  others  who  might  read  or  hear  of  this  journey, 
was  one  great  object  for  which  it  was  undertaken.  I  rejoice 
to  sav,  that  witheverv  mile  of  the  journev  mv  belief  in  mis- 
sions  and  missionary  work  has  been  strengthened,  my  love 
for  the  missionai'ies  increased,  and  my  confidence  in  the  final 
triumph  of  the  religion  of  Christ  throughout  all  the  worUl 
has  been  more  surely  established. 


588 


MISREPRESENTATIONS   OF   SHALLOW   CRITICS. 


i 


I 


]\[any  and  cruel  misrepresentations  of  missionaries  and 
missionary  work  lind  voice  in  the  ]iress,  and  in  the  comments 
of  returned  travelers  who  often  return  to  their  own  land 
hostile  and  abusive  of  missionary  work.  I  liave  paid  ni}'^  re- 
spects to  these  globe-trotters  more  than  once  in  the  course  of 
these  chapters,  and  no  language  is  too  strong  with  which  to 
score  their  superficial  and  utterly  false  estimates  of  mission- 
ary service. 

These  unsympathetic  travelers  Avho  live  in  luxury  and 
comfort  at  home,  who  go  abroad  simply  for  their  own  con- 
venience and  pleasure,  who  have  never  sacrificed  a  dollar  for 
the  advancement  of  the  cause  of  Christ,  presume  to  criticize 
with  vulgar  sneers  these  brave  soldiers  of  the  Cross  who  have 
given  up  home  and  native  land  and  dear  friends,  and  many 
of  them  brilliant  prospects  in  life,  for  the  love  Avhich  they 
bear  the  Master  and  the  men  for  whom  He  died.  Patience 
ceases  to  be  a  virtue  when  one  considers  these  shallow  critics 
of  men  whose  shoe  latchets  they  are  not  worthy  to  unloose. 
To  be  sure,  missionaries  differ  as  good  men  differ  everywhere 
else  in  intellectual  capacities,  in  natural  gifts,  in  education, 
and  in  devotion.  Some  are  far  more  efficient  than  others. 
Some  are  more  wholly  given  to  their  work  than  their  fellow 
missionaries,  and  some  are  more  successful  and  have  larger 
results  to  show  for  the  time  and  money  and  force  which  they 
expend  in  foreign  lands. 

But  this  is  only  saying  what  is  equally  true  of  ministers 
and  Christian  people  at  home.  There  is  a  diversity  of  gifts, 
but  it  is  also  true  that  a  genuine  spirit  of  loyalty  to  Christ 
and  of  love  to  men,  and  a  desire  to  lift  them  up,  in  everyway 
pervades  the  ranks  of  missionaries  of  the  cross  in  all  lands, 
and  is  their  one  controlling  motive.  During  tiie  past  year  I 
have  visited  tliese  faithful  men  and  women  in  China  and 
Japan,  in  Northern  India  and  in  Southern  India,  in  the  Sand- 


MISSIONARIES   AND   THEIR   WORK. 


589 


i  and 
nents 
la  ml 
tiy  re- 
irse  of 
ich  to 
ission- 

ry  and 
n  con- 
liar  for 
nnticize 
lio  have 
I  many 
3h  they 
'atience 
v  critics 
unloose, 
y  where 
ucation, 
others, 
r  fellow 
e larger 
ich  they 

linisters 
)f  gifts, 
Christ 
[eryway 
ll  lands, 
It  year  I 
jna  and 
lie  Sand- 


Avich  Islands  and  Samoa,  in  Egypt  and  Syria,  in  Turkey, 
Greece,  France,  and  Spain,  and  without  hesitation  I  can  say 
no  nobler,  more  devoted,  self-sacriticing,  and  intelligent  body 
of  men  and  women  has  it  ever  been  my  privilege  to  meet  in 
any  land.  In  wit  and  worth,  in  intellectual  capacity  and 
administrative  ability,  in  intelligence  and  in  a  large,  states- 
manlike grasp  of  the  situation,  their  numbers  cannot  be 
duplicated,  I  believe,  in  any  Avalk  of  life. 

They  are,  for  the  most  part,  well-equipped  lief  ore  they 
leave  home  ;  they  have  been  broadened  by  travel,  polished  by 
contact  with  many  men  of  many  minds,  sweetened  by  love 
and  devotion  to  Christ,  ennobled  by  supreme  and  lofty  life 
purposes,  and  are  men  and  Avomen  who  are  fit  to  stand 
before  kings,  for  they  have  felt  the  ennobling  touch  of  ser- 
vice for  the  King  of  Kings. 

Much  of  the  misapprehension  of  missionary  work  arises 
from  the  fact  that  the  difficulties  and  hardshi})s  are  not  in 
these  days  as  they  were  at  first,  largely  ])hysical  and  mate- 
rial. Few  missionaries  now  suffer  for  lack  of  sufficient  food 
or  good  clothes  or  convenient  shelter.  Some  of  them  live 
almost  as  comfortably  as  they  would  live  at  home,  and  their 
abodes,  clothing,  and  table  fare  are  above  the  average  of  the 
debased  tribes  among  whom  many  of  them  work.  Tliis  dif- 
ference of  social  condition  has  given  rise  to  many  of  the 
cruel  jibes  of  unsympathetic  and  slanderous  travelers,  Avho 
accuse  the  missionaries  of  living  in  stately  style  in  palaces, 
while  their  converts  grovel  in  miserable  hovels. 

But  the  object  of  the  missionary,  as  I  understand  it,  is  to 
lift  his  convert  out  of  the  hovel,  and  not  to  degrade  himself 
to  the  level  of  the  heathen.  Wliile  it  is  true  that  the  average 
missionary  lives  for  the  most  part  in  comparative  comfort,  it 
is  not  true  that  he  lives  extravagantly  or  lavishly.  lie  is 
always  willing  to  go  down  among  people  for  whom  he  works; 


*!(■ 


' 


590 


LAST  WORDS. 


he  is  willing  to  wear  their  clothes,  eat  their  coarse  fare,  and 
live  in  their  filthy  huts,  if  necessary,  and  he  often  does  all 
these  and  more ;  at  the  same  time  he  is  constantly  trying  to 
raise  the  people  unto  whom  he  has  been  sent  to  a  higher 
level  of  respectability  and  Christian  manhood. 

I  am  glad  to  have  my  last  words  in  this  book  testify  to 
the  fact  that  missionary  work  of  all  the  various  Protestant 
denominations  in  all  parts  of  the  world  is,  in  my  eyes,  the 
most  promising  and  hopeful  feature  of  modern  civilization. 
For  the  enlargement  of  commerce,  for  the  spread  of  civiliza- 
tion, for  the  uplifting  of  humanity,  for  the  redemption  of  the 
world,  there  is  no  such  force  as  that  which  is  exerted  by  the 
Anglo-Saxon  missionaries  of  the  Cross,  the  ministers  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ. 


and 
s  all 

igto 
gher 


Ey  to 
itant 
,  the 
tion. 
iliza- 
f  the 
y  the 
I  the 


,-f  I  ■■■'■" 


n      ^ 


^a/)^n'Wb    ^.  ^ivur^^ 


-^^% 


v^, -^V^IlUi) 


\i 


fl 


§!is  $fpn  (Through  a  oOloinanh  (^|)fs. 


rojtv 


HtN    ;i   man     >u'i   a    ^vi'uiuii    uro 
journeying  "  ,\r«>unii  th*iWorI<l" 
'  -    ■ '    '    *'        are  lik«'lv  to  soo 
iirough     (lilferent 
man    may,    per- 
<*jirer  vision  and  a 
btit  the  w(mian. 
•>>M'      .  jsure,    and     with 

in  .'laities    in    somr'  di- 

iiise  she  is  a  woman, 
little    thinjtys  which 
.>•    t'M'HjK'd   the  larger  vision, 
and  yet  are  )i..i«-  ■.,,'-  i.--,.^   "^Ht'osiing. 

It  is  with  the  hoj>p  that  some  of  the  experitvii*  <•>  and 
observations  of  an  Aia^^rican  wojuan  in  strange  lands  may 
be  interesting  to  h»»r  sisters  in  the  home-huid,  tiiat  she  hns 
ventured  to  present  tiiese  glimpses  of  life  and  scenes  among 
the  women  and  children  of  otiier  countries  tJian  m>.v-.  is 
they  appeared  to  her. 


( m ) 


mdwyd^  &.  t^/t^^ 


r 


^      it      I      r    i 


,1  t-    '     / 


.  r     :.;/  ■       '('■ 


gls  ,§cen  i^hrflugh  Jt  taloman's  tfires. 


INTRODUCTORY. 


^HEN  a  man  and  a  woman  are 
journeying  "Around  the  World " 
together  they  are  likely  to  see 
all  things  through  different 
glasses.  The  man  may,  per- 
haps, have  a  clearer  vision  and  a 
wider  outlook;  but  the  woman, 
Avith  more  leisure,  and  with 
more  opportunities  in  some  di- 
rections because  she  is  a  woman, 
will  notice  little  things  which 
have  escaped  the  larger  vision, 
and  yet  are  none  the  less  interesting. 

It  is  with  the  hope  that  some  of  the  experiences  and 
observations  of  an  American  Avoman  in  strange  lands  may 
be  interesting  to  her  sisters  in  the  home-land,  that  she  has 
ventured  to  present  these  glimpses  of  life  and  scenes  among 
the  Avomen  and  children  of  other  countries  than  ours,  as 
they  appeared  to  her. 


(593) 


mo/^nnJf  (S>.  ^Za/rn^ 


T 
oc 


^'.\m\M 


isMlf 


Bs  Seen  ilbcougb  a  Woman'd  £scd. 


CIIAPTEK  I. 

A  WOMAN'S  LIFE  AT  SPLV  — HOUSEKEEPING  IN  A  FLOATING 
PRISON  — LIFE  UNDER  THE  SOUTHERN  CROSS. 

At  Sea  —  Housekeeping  on  a  Smiill  Scale  —  Daily  Life  in  a  Floating 
Prison  —  A  Consoling  Stewardess  —  Tea  and  Toast  in  a  Stateroom  — 
A  Bed  that  Never  Kept  Still  —  Lucid  Intervals  —  Moving  into  a  New 
Home  —  Arranging  our  Belongings  —  Going  to  Housekeeping  Eighteen 
Times  in  One  Year  —  Tlie  Back  Yard  of  an  Ocean  Steamer  —  Sighing  for 
a  Pine  Stump  —  A  Chinese  Steward,  A  Malay  Quartermaster,  and  an 
English  Cai)tain  —  Life  on  the  Chinrjtii  —  Under  the  Southern  Cross  — 
A  Velvet-footed  Steward  —  Doleful  TernuK  Pleasant  INIemories. 

|OAV  many  pleasant  memoi'ies  of 
our  life  on  ocean  steamers  come 
back  to  me  as  I  write!  After 
traveling  for  weeks  on  land,  liv- 
ing in  trunks  meanwhile,  stop- 
ping two  (lays  in  this  place  and 
one  in  the  next,  a  homelike  feel- 
inff  alwavs  came  over  me  when 
we  moved  our  worldly  posses- 
sions into  the  little  stateroom  of 
a  steamer  and  settled  down  to 
housekeeping  for  a  few  days. 
To  be  sure,  it  was  housekeeping  on  a  small  scale,  but  only 
think  of  the  delight  of  having  one  room  that  you  can  call 
your  very  own  for  eight  or  ten  or  twelve  days,  and  on  one 
occasion  even  for  twenty-four  days.     Just  think  of  it,  O  ye 

(595) 


690 


RESTFUL  DAYS. 


housekeepers,  who  can  spread  your  possessions  over  a  whole 
house  and  keep  them  there  all  the  time,  with  never  a 
thought  of  change  save  that  of  ])leasing  your  own  fancy. 

Life  and  travel  on  land  was  usually  a  rush,  a  hurry,  and 
hustle;  conventitms  and  tea  meetings,  sight-seeing,  recep- 
tions and  visiting,  wrestling  with  trunks,  waiting  at  railroad 
stations,  changing  cars,  whirling  througii  city  streets  in 
jinrikisluis,  or  jolting  in  jutkahs,  led  us  a  husy  life  on  shore. 
How  welcome  the  change  to  an  ocean  steamer  and  the 
prospect  of  a  sea  voyage,  long  or  siiort,  after  four  or  five  of 
such  busy  weeks !  How  quiet  it  seemed,  as  Ave  pushed  the 
steamer  trunk  under  the  berth,  after  taking  out  the  favorite 
articles  that  would  be  wanted  first  and  disposing  of  them  in 
different  places !  To  be  sure,  my  wrapper  was  usually  the 
first  thing  needed,  and  my  berth  the  first  place  I  sought, 
but  what  of  that !  After  the  bustle  and  confusion  on  land, 
was  it  not  restful  to  spend  a  few  days  in  perfect  quiet  on 
the  berth  or  the  lounge  ?  As  for  food,  Avhat  could  be  more 
soothing  than  the  cup  of  tea  and  the  slice  of  cold  toast 
served  by  the  hands  of  the  stewardess  three  times  a  day. 
"What  could  be  more  comforting  than  her  assurance  that 
"  the  sea  is  growing  smoother  and  probably  it  will  be  quite 
calm  by  to-morrow."  True  there  are  no  visible  indications 
that  the  sea  is  growing  calmer,  and  you  think  it  is  quite 
probable  that  she  only  says  it  is  from  a  desire  to  make  herself 
agreeable;  still,  it  is  a  comfort  to  have  her  say  so,  even  if 
you  do  not  believe  it.  All  this  may  suggest  rather  a  doubt- 
ful kind  of  rest,  but  it  loas  rest  nevertheless,  and  I  always 
looked  forward  longingly  to  my  floating  prison. 

Besides,  I  frequently  had  lucid  intervals  when  I  could  go 
on  deck  and  enjoy  life  with  the  rest  of  the  party  that  made 
up  our  little  world.  There  were  days  w^hen  the  sea  was 
calm  and  peaceful  and  I  could  promenade  up  and  down  the 


THANKFUL  FOR  SMALL  FAVORS. 


597 


go 
Ide 

ks 

ihe 


deck,  and  sing  in  my  lieart  tliat  old  tune  our  fathers  and 

mothers  sung  years  ago,  ^ 

"  Fly  like  a  youthful  hu-n-nrt  or  roe, 
Over  the  hl-i-i-ils  where  spi-i-i-ces  grow." 

There  were  rough  and  stormy  (Uiys,  it  is  true,  when  the 
ship  tossed  and  })itched,  and  I  lay  on  my  back  in  my  berth 
with  closed  eyes,  and  sighed,  "  Oh,  for  a  lodge  in  some  vast 
wilderness,"  or,  "Oh,  that  I  had  wings  like  a  dove."  But 
even  this  was  an  episode,  and  if  the  voyage  was  long  a  few 
days  of  seasickness  now  and  then  served  to  break  the  monot- 
ony. Think  of  this,  ye  Aveary  housekeepers,  who  dun  take 
your  rest  every  night,  and  every  day  if  you  Avill,  in  a  bed 
and  keep  still,  and  in  a  room  which  boasts  at  least  one  good- 
sized  Avindow! 

If  I  have  learned  nothing  else  in  this  long  journey  I  have 
learned  to  be  thankful  for  small  mercies. 

There  was  always  a  pleasant  excitement  in  going  on 
board  a  steamer  and  starting  on  a  new  voyage.  Where  was 
our  stateroom  situated  t  "Was  it  an  outside  room  ?  Was  it 
on  the  pleasant  side  of  the  ship,  where  Ave  could  haA'e  the 
port  open  ?  How  far  Avas  it  from  the  dining-room  and  how 
far  from  my  seat  at  table?  IIow  many  seconds  Avould  it 
take  to  go  from  the  table  to  my  berth  if  I  should  suddenly 
decide  that  I  did  not  want  anv  breakfast  ? 

Then  came  the  pleasure  of  unpacking  our  goods  and 
settling  down  to  housekeeping  again.  It  was  like  moving 
into  a  ncAv  house.  We  looked  about  to  see  how  large  the 
stateroom  A\as,  Avhat  conA'eniences  it  possessed,  and  con- 
sidered how  to  make  the  most  of  them.  This  berth  shall  be 
my  room ;  this  net  Avhich  holds  so  many  little  things  shall 
be  my  bureau ;  this  hook  shall  be  my  Avardrobe,  or  "  almira," 
as  they  call  it  in  India.  Perhaps  I  can  cA^en  haA'e  tAVo  hooks. 
This  trunk  Avill  make  a  good  divan  Avhen  it  is  pulled  out 

36 


608 


HOUSEkiiEPlNG  AT  SEA. 


from  under  the  berth,  and  it  can  l)e  pushed  under  again 
wlien  it  is  not  wanted,  Tliis  lounge  shall  be  the  spare  room, 
for  the  use  of  the  family,  or  for  an  occasional  f<;uest.  This 
little  shelf  under  the  glass  shall  be  the  dressing-table,  and 
this  camp  stool  the  easy  chaii'.  This  narrow  space  between 
the  berths  and  the  lounge  will  hardly  do  for  the  parlor,  but 
])ei'haps  we'll  call  it  the  hall,  and,  when  the  divan  is  pulled 
out,  it  Avill  do  for  the  family  sitting-room.  "  Now  we  are  all 
settled,"  as  a  certain  small  boy,  the  little  pilgrim  of  the 
])arty,  always  said  when  he  had  everything  ai'rang(ul  to  his 
satlsfa(tt"ion,  and  we  were  ready  to  sail. 

It  is  not  everycme  who  has  the  privilege  of  going  to 
housel«!(!ping  eighteen  times  in  tin;  cours(!  of  one;  yi^ar,  aiul 
each  time;  in  a,  diib^i-cMit  land,  or,  i-athcr,  on  a  diU'erent  s(ia. 
TIh'  spirit  moves  mi;  to  wi'ili^  a  whoh?  chaptei"  on  the  Yellow 
Scii.  and  ii  doh^ful  chapter  it  would  be,  I  am  afraid.  I  v. oiild 
lik'c  to  wi'ite  a  chiipter  on  '' llouseUec^ping  at  the  lM|iiiitoi','' 
or  "  Lile  on  tlu;  Trluchdlrhnf,"  or  "  At  lIom(i  on  the  Anifura 
Sea,"  or  "  Days  in  the  Doldi'ums,"  but a(M)mi)assionate  spirit 
com(!S  ovei'  me  and  I  foi'bciii'. 

A  c(M"tain  traveler,  who  has  i'e(;orded  his  expei'iences, 
speaks  in  ]»rais(^  of  the  one;  steanuM' on  which  he  traveled,  and 
his  delight  in  coming  back  always  to  tla;  same  steanuM'  and 
the  sam(^  traveling  companions;  but  his  experience;  was  not 
t)urs,  and  to  us.i  i-hangeof  steanuM's seemed  much  |)leasant{;r. 
Pei'haps,  however,  this  nuiy  not  decide  the  (piestion,  but  may 
oidy  s(!i'V(!  to  show  a,  comnuindable  desii'e,  both  on  his  par't 
and  on  ours,  to  be  content  in  whatever  state  (or  st(;amer)  one 
is  com|)elled  to  tal<(;,  and  to  acc(!pt  tlu;  gifts  the  gods  provi<le 
and  be  thankful.  Siip|»ose  you)'  stateroom  In  small,  and  on 
the  wrong  side;  of  tlu;  ship  so  that  the  poi-ts  must  often  be 
ch)sed.  N(!ver  mind,  you  will  1kiv<!  bettcM'  foi'tune  next 
time,  and  "it's  an  ill  wind  that  blows  nobody  good."     Sup- 


THE  BACK   YARD   OF   A    S^IIP. 


509 


uni 

liril 


•(>>, 


illUl 


iUUl 

not 
iter, 
jiiay 

iirt 
lone 

•ide 


on 


>xt 


pose  your  follow  passengers  arc  9>ot  tlio  most  agreeable  })eople 
in  the  worlds  Never  mind,  they  are  only  going  on  this 
voyage,  and  you  will  leave  them  at  the  next  port.  Su])i)ose, 
on  the  other  iian<l,  that  they  are  all  very  agreeable  people, 
and  you  are  sorry  to  leave  them.  Never  mind,  you  will 
make  other  delightful  aecpiaintances  on  the  next  steam«;r, 
and  we  shall  be  sure  to  meet  them  again,  sometime,  some- 
where;  and  oh,  liow  many  delightl'id  I'ricinds  we  shall  have 
l)eroi'e  the  year  is  over!  Suppose  you  do  not  nn<l  tiie  table 
or  the  service  (piitc  satisfactory.  Ts«'vei'  mind,  they  are  sure 
to  be  bett(!r  next  time. 

Think,  too,  of  the  delights  of  keeping  hous(!  in  a  dillei'ent 
])lac(!  (;acli  <lay.  Oh,  tired  h<)usek(!ej)ei'  in  tlu^  dear  home- 
land, did  you  evei'  \V(!ary  of  looking  out  ui»on  the  sairie 
sights  day  aft(M'  day'!'  Did  you  ever  get  tired  of  the  tre(^  in 
front  of  your  kilehen  window  and  wish  it  were  a,  jxtst  oi"  a 
rock,  a  llow<!r-be(l  or  a  fountain^  l)id  you  ever  weary  of 
looking  into  your  neiglil)or's  l)a('k  yard  i  Then  you  will 
undcM'stand  how  deiiglilfid  it  is  to  lind  youi'  house  in  a  new 
piac<!  every  morning.  If  you  (h)  not  like  yoni'  front  yard 
to-day,  you  ca,n  consoji!  yourself  witii  tlu!  thought  that  it 
will  be  youi'  back'  yai'd  to-nioi'row.  If  you  are  not  ])ieas(!(l 
Avith  the  Handa  S(!a  this  week,  yon  know  yon  will  have  tin; 
Siilu  S(Mi  next  wec^k.  If  Thursday  Island  does  not  suit  you, 
wait  a,  day  oi'  two  and  you  can  have  Friday  Island,  or 
Satui'day  Island. 

It  is  tru(!  that  all  water  looks  \rvy  ninch  alike,  wh(!ther 
it  is  th(!  Yellow  Sea,  oi*  the  I'osplioi'us,  but  iIkmi  you  can 
always  assure  yourself  that  it  is  not  th(>  same,  and  that  you 
ari'  looking  out  upon  a,  dillei'ent  place  from  ycstei'day. 

I  must  confess  to  an  o(;(;asional  wild  desire  to  tie  our 
house  to  a  iwM  somewher(\  and  keep  it  still  foi'  a  little  while, 
and  to  certain  unappeased  longings  for  an  old  stump  that  I 


600 


A   MOTLEY   CREW. 


have  often  looked  upon  as  a  disfiguring  blot  upon  the  land- 
scape. There  were  days  when  I  should  have  considered  that 
stump  "  a  thing  of  beauty  and  a  joy  forever,"  if  I  could  have 
been  set  down  suddenly  beside  it.  However,  this  only  goes 
to  show  what  discontented  creatures  we  mortals  are.  When 
we  have  a  stump  we  sigh  for  something  else,  and  when  we 
have  something  else  we  pine  for  a  stump.     Such  is  life ! 

I  remember  three  or  four  different  steamers  which 
seemed  to  me  particularly  delightful.  I  shall  never  forget 
the  day  I  climbed  up  from  the  Tarshaw  —  a  little  steam-tug 
that  had  brought  us  out  from  Brisbane  —  over  a  high  railing 
and  down  on  to  the  deck  of  the  Chingtu,  thence  into  our 
stateroom,  which  was  to  be  our  home  for  three  weeks.  "We 
were  all  tired  after  a  long  series  of  meetings  for  nearly  six 
weeks,  and  the  prospect  of  rest  was  comforting.  As  we 
arranged  our  household  effects  in  the  little  stateroom,  what 
a  delightful  feeling  of  peace  and  quietness  came  over  us! 
No  more  meetings,  no  more  hurrying  to  catch  a  ^min,  no 
more  packing  and  unpacking,  nothing  to  do  but  to  rest  and 
keep  house  for  three  weeks  with  everything  new  and 
interesting,  for  the  steward  of  the  Chhujtfi  Avas  a  Chinaman, 
the  quartermaster  was  a  Malay,  the  captain  Avas  an  English- 
man, with  a  general  disregard  of  his  h's,  and  the  passengers 
were  mostly  Chinese. 

Nothing  can  be  more  delightful  than  early  morning  in 
the  tropics.  After  the  hot  night  in  the  little  stateroom 
below  it  was  refreshing  to  go  up  on  the  cool  deck,  and, 
reclining  lazily  in  a  steamer  chair,  look  off  upon  tho  land  and 
sea,  for  Ave  Avere  inside  the  Great  Barrier  reef  and  Avere 
almost  ahvays  in  sight  of  land.  Often  a  soft  footfall  on 
deck  announced  John  Chinaman,  our  table  stcAvard,  bringing 
a  cup  of  delicious  tea  and  some  dainty  little  pieces  of  toast, 
hot,  crisp,  nicely  buttered,  and  tempting  to  the  appetite. 


DAILY   LIFE  AT   SEA. 


601 


our 
We 
/  six 

we 
tvhat 

us  I 
no 

and 

and 


Igers 

Is:  in 

loom 
land, 
I  and 
Ivere 
on 
ring 
mst, 
Itite. 


At  half-past  eight  came  breakfast  in  the  cool  dining-saloon, 
with  punkahs  moving  briskly  to  make  a  breeze,  and  Chinese 
stewards,  in  their  white  jackets,  flitting  about  the  room 
attending  to  the  wants  of  the  passengers. 

The  forenoons  always  passed  quickly  with  reading^  and 
writing  and  sewing,  for  this  was  an  easy,  lazy  kind  of  house- 
keeping with  no  household  cares  to  attend  to.  Before  it 
seemed  possible  that  it  could  be  so  late  would  come  the  call 
to  tiffin,  and  we  Avere  always  ready  to  respond,  for  there  is 
nothing  like  a  sea  breeze  to  give  one  an  appetite.  Then  an 
afternoon  nap,  a  game  or  two  of  quoits  on  deck,  a  little  writ- 
ing, and,  almost  before  we  know  it,  it  is  "  eight  bells,"  and 
John  Chinaman  again  appears  with  more  tea  and  toast. 
Strange  as  it  ma}^  seem,  Ave  are  ready  for  it  again,  and  the 
tea  is  so  good  and  the  toast  so  hot  and  so  daintily  served 
that  it  Avould  tempt  the  poorest  appetite. 

Ding,  dong,  — two  bells.  Can  it  be  five  o'clock  ?  Almost 
dinner  time,  and  we  have  only  time  enough  for  a  little 
promenade. 

How  delightful  the  cool,  evening  breeze,  and  wliat  a 
gorgeous  sunset !  If  morning  in  the  tropics  is  always 
beautiful,  the  long,  moonlight  evenings  on  the  steamer's 
deck  are  no  less  so,  with  the  Southern  Cross  looking  down 
upon  us !  It  Avas  hard  to  realize  on  those  Avarm  summer 
evenings  that  our  friends  at  home  Avere  shiA'ering  in  the  chill 
November  blast,  Avhile  Ave  sat  lazily  in  our  steamer  chairs 
enjoying  the  cool  soft  air  and  dreading  the  descent  into  our 
stuffy  little  stateroom. 

Then  there  Avas  the  Emj^'css  of  China  Avith  its  large, 
convenient  staterooms,  which  seemed  to  us  like  palatial 
apartments,  Avith  its  broad,  shady  decks,  and  little  English 
children  running  about  under  the  care  of  their  Chinese 
Ammahs.    There  Avas  the  Japanese  steamer,  the  Yokohama 


603 


MEMORIES  OF  OUR  LIFE  AT  SEA. 


Maru,  on  which  we  spent  such  a  dismal  Christmas  on  the 
Yellow  Sea,  and  the  Peru,  which  carried  us  safely  through 
a  Typhoon  on  Thanksgiving  eve,  and  the  Eussian  steamer 
Tchiclcatehoff,  one  of  the  very  pleasantest  steamers  of  them 
all,  and  the  Victoria,  and  many  others  which  might  be 
mentioned.  All  of  these  floating  homes  of  ours  have  pleas- 
ant memories  connected  with  them,  besides  not  a  few  gloomy 
ones.  What  a  fortunate  thing  it  is  that  the  doleful  memories 
fade  away  and  only  the  bright  ones  linger. 


CHAPTER  11. 


AMONG  THE  WOMEN  AND  CHILDREN  OF  JAPAN  — A  JAPAN- 
ESE PRAYER  MEETING  —  NATIVE  POLITENESS  AND  ETI- 
QUETTE—MY EXPERIENCE  WITH  CHOPSTICKS. 

Compensations  —  The  Brown  Babies  of  India  —  Tlie  Yellow  Babies  of 
Japan  —  Queensland  Luej'  —  A  Forlorn  Little  Black  Girl  —  The  Hottest 
Place  on  Earth  —  Home  Life  in  Japan  —  Going  to  Prayer  Meeting  in  a 
Jinrikisha  —  A  Shuffling,  Awkward  Gait  —  Where  We  Left  Our  Shoes 

—  Japanese  Etitjuette  —  A  Cordial   Welcome  —  Bowing   to  the  Floor 

—  "Rock  of  Ages"  in  Japanese — An  Interesting  Meeting  —  Struggling 
with  a  Foreign  Language  —  "Sayouara"to  (mr  Friends  —  Japanese 
Refreshments  —  Eating  Bean  Soup  with  Chopsticks — A  Dillicult 
Operation  —  Drinking  Soup  from  a  Bowl  —  Delusive  Beans  —  New  Use 
for  a   Sleeve  —  A    Japanese    Pillow  —  The    Professor  of    Flowers. 

OME   of    the  compensations    tluit 

come  to  a  woman  who  for  the 

sake  of  taking  a  journey  around 

the  Avorld  has  given  up  her  own 

home,  are  the  delightful  glimpses 

she  gets  of  other  homes,  and  the 

pleasant  acquaintances  made  with 

other  women  and   children.     If 

she  cannot  cuddle  her  own  babies 

she  can  cuddle  the  little  brown 

ones  in  India  or  Cevlon,  or  the 

yellow  ones  in  China  and  Japan, 

and  in  talking  with  their  mothers  she  cannot  help  but  feel  a 

sympathy  Avith  home  life  in  other  lands  such  as  never  could 

have  been  awakened  by  books  or  travelers'  tales. 

One  of  my  first  native  acquaintances  was  little  "  Queens- 

(G03) 


€04 


LITTLE    ''QUEENSLAND   LUCY," 


land  Lucy  "  (as  we  called  her),  on  the  Mariposa^  the  steamer 
which  carried  us  from  San  Francisco  to  Sydney.  Her  sad 
little  face  was  the  blackest  one  I  ever  saw,  and  she  was  so 
thin  and  poor  that  I  wondered  if  she  ever  had  enough  to 
•eat.  As  I  became  better  acquainted  with  her,  I  found  that 
the  sober  face  could  light  up  with  a  smile,  and  that  in  spite 
of  her  forlorn  appearance  she  had  a  comfortable  home.  She 
was  an  aboriginal  Australian  girl  from  North  Queensland, 
who  had  been  adopted  by  white  people,  who  cared  for  her  as 
if  she  had  been  their  own.  She  was  a  most  forlorn  little 
miss  to  look  at,  however,  and  seemed  to  have  very  little  idea 
of  life  as  happy,  rolicking  children  in  America  know  it. 
During  all  those  twenty-four  days  on  the  llarijposa,  I  never 
saw  her  run  about  and  play  like  other  children.  She  would 
sit  alone  most  of  the  time  with  her  patchwork  in  her  lap, 
sometimes  sewing  a  little,  sometimes  reading,  and  often  with 
her  hands  folded,  doing  nothing.  She  seemed  to  be  happy, 
however,  in  her  own  quiet  way,  and  an  occasional  walk  on 
deck  seemed  to  be  recreation  enough  to  satisfy  her.  After- 
wards Ave  saw  more  of  these  aboriginal  inhabitants  of 
Australia  at  Poit  Darwin.  They  are  repulsive  looking 
people,  most  of  them  as  thin  as  skeletons,  all  of  them  with 
very  black  faces,  but  seeming  happy  and  contented  with 
their  lot  in  life. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  Port  Darwin  was  the  hottest  place 
on  the  face  of  the  earth,  but  a  few  European  people  manage 
to  live  there,  and  the  natives  seemed  to  like  the  terrific  heat. 
Groups  of  mothers  and  children  sat  on  the  ground  basking 
m  the  sun.  The  mothers  seemed  to  be  very  fond  of  their 
black  babies,  and  some  of  them  were  bright  looking  little 
tots,  though  none  were  pretty„  In  every  other  country  I 
invariably  found  bright,  pretty,  attractive  children,  no 
matter  what  their  color  or  their  costume  might  be,  but 


HOME   LIFE   IN   JAPAN. 


005 


Dking 
I  Avitli 
I  with 


Wace 
Inage 
Iheat. 
Lking 
Itheir 
llittle 

no 
but 


among  all  these  little  black  babies  in  North  Australia  I  did 
not  see  one  that  looked  kissable  or  even  as  though  it  could 
be  made  so. 

So  far  as  I  could  learn,  but  little  is  being  done  to  civilize 
or  Christianize  these  people,  though  I  believe  there  are  a  few 
missionaries  among  them.  My  heart  went  out  to  those  poor, 
dirty,  black  babies,  and  I  wished  with  all  my  heart  that  I 
could  do  something  for  them. 

We  had  delightful  glimpses 
of  home  life  in  Japan.  On  one 
occasion  I  was  invited  by  a  mis- 
sionary lady  to  attend  a  wo- 
men's prayer  meeting  in  Yoko- 
hama, an  invitation  I  was  glad 
to  accept.  She  called  two  jin- 
rikishas,  which  soon  appeared 
at  the  door,  and  after  the  jinrik- 
isha  men  had  wrap})ed  their 
red  blankets  about  us  we  started 
o^.  This  is  a  comfortable  way 
of  traveling ;  indeed,  it  is  almost 
the  only  way  in  Japan,  though 
there  are  now  a  few  horses  in 
Yokohama,  and  also  in  Tokio. 

IIow  I  wish  the  friends  at 
home  could  have  seen  the  people  we  met  that  afternoon! 
The  demure  Japanese  maidens  with  their  pretty  costumes 
and  obis,  shuffling  along  on  their  wooden  shoes ;  the  little 
boys  and  girls  with  babies  tied  on  their  backs, —  the  babies' 
heads  bobbing  about  in  every  direction  as  the  children  ran 
and  played ;  the  old  women  with  their  wrinkled  fjjces  and 
their  black  teeth  ;  the  jinrikisha  men  waiting  at  every  cor- 
ner, standing  by  their  little  carriages  or  sitting  between  the 


A  JAPANESE   MOTIIEU. 


GOG 


AN   ANIMATED   HAYSTACK. 


shafts  with  their  gay  blankets  Avrapped  about  them;  and 
occasionally  a  stylish  Japanese  lady  out  for  a  ride,  or  an 
Englishman  out  for  a  M^alk. 

It  began  to  rain  a  little  while  we  were  upon  this  our  first 
journey  in  a  jinrikisha,  and  while  we  were  quite  well  pro- 
tected by  the  covering  overhead,  our  carriers  protected 
themselves  by  putting  on  their  rain-coats  —  not  mackin- 
toshes, dear  reader,  or  rubber 
monstrosities  such  as  we  wear 
at  home,  but  a  cheap  and  con- 
venient affair  made  of  rice- 
straw,  which  sheds  the  water 
like  the  feathers  of  a  duck. 
Thus  thatched,  our  jinrikisha 
man  looked  like  an  animated 
lun'stack.  His  rain  cloak  cov- 
ered him  almost  from  head  to 
heels.  In  the  crowded  street 
he  was  continually  shouting, 
at  the  top  of  his  voice,  ''Hi- 
hi,"  which  may  be  translated 
into  English,  I  suppose,  as 
"Look  out  there,"  "Get  out 
of  the  way,"  in  order  to  clear 
a  passage  for  our  little  procession. 

Some  of  the  Japanese  maidens  who  passed  us  in  the 
street  were  very  pretty,  though  I  wished  they  might  learn 
to  walk  more  gracefully  instead  of  shuffling  along  in  an 
awkward  manner  in  their  clumsy  wooden  shoes. 

After  a  half-hour's  ride,  we  arrived  at  last  at  the  private 
house  where  the  class-meeting  w^as  to  be  held.  Before 
entering  we  sat  on  the  doorstep,  took  off  our  boots,  and  put 
on  some  soft  felt  slippers  which  we  had  brought  with  us. 


A  JAPANESE   MAIDEN. 


Iin  the 
learn 
in  an 

orivate 
before 
id  put 
Itli  us. 


F 

y 
t] 


AT  A  JAPANESE  PRAYER  MEETING. 


609 


As  soon  as  we  were  inside  the  house,  I  understood  why  cus- 
tom required  us  to  take  off  our  boots,  for  the  floor,  which 
was  covered  with  dainty,  soft  straw  matting,  was  immacu- 
lately neat  and  clean. 

Japanese  women  wear  wooden  shoes,  which  are  held  on 
by  a  strap  across  the  top  of  the  foot  and  are  easily  slipi)ed 
off  at  the  door ;  thev  wear  only  stockinj^s  on  their  feet  Avhile 
they  are  in  the  house. 

A  little  company  of  women  sat  on  the  floor  waiting  for 
us.  They  politely  pointed  to  some  cushions  which  had  been 
placed  ready  in  anticipation  of  our  coming,  whereupon  we, 
too,  sat  down  on  the  floor.  It  was  a  cordial  Japanese  Avel- 
come,  our  hostesses  bowing  down  until  their  foreheads 
touched  the  floor.  AVe  returned  the  salutation  as  well  as  we 
could,  though  it  was  not  easy  to  do  it  gracefully. 

The  meeting  opened  by  singing  the  hymn,  "Rock  of 
Ages."  My  hymn  book  contained  a  translation  of  the  hymn 
in  Japanese,  and  I  joined  Ayith  the  others  in  singing : 

"  Chiyo  lieslii  iwa  yo, 
Ware  wo  kakuslil  nc, 
Sakareshi  waki  no, 
Mizu  to  chishlo  ni, 
Waga  tsumi  toga  wo, 
Arai  Kiyomeyo.'' 

I  realized  as  never  before  that  Ave  Avere  all  children  of 
the  same  HeaA^enly  Father  and  that  Christian  men  and 
women  OAve  something  to  their  brothers  and  sisters  in  other 
lands,  Avhether  we  recognize  the  obligation  or  not. 

Christ's  last  command,  "Go  ye  into  all  the  AA'orld  and 
preach  the  Gospel  to  every  creature,"  simply  means,  find  out 
your  brothers  and  sisters  eA'eryAvhere,  help  just  as  many  of 
them  as  you  can,  tell  them  of  their  Heavenly  Father  and  of 
His  love  for  them.     I  Avish  that  those  people  Avho  think  mis- 


Ml 


CIO  MY  FIRST  LESSON  IN  JAPANESE. 

sionaries  are  not  accotnplishing  anything  could  have  been 
present  at  this  little  meeting ! 

One  after  another  Japanese  woman  took  part.  They 
spoke  earnestly  and  freely  of  their  religious  experiences.  I 
could  not  understand  their  words,  but  I  could  see  the  rever- 
ent si)irit  they  showed  and  could  unite  with  them  in  prayer. 

When  I  was  asked  to  speak  a  few  words  to  them  I  re- 
alized the  difficulty  missionaries  ex[)erience  in  struggling 
with  a  foreign  tongue.  It  is  never  easy  to  speak  through  an 
interpreter.  As  this  was  my  first  day  in  Japan  I  had  not 
learned  even  one  word  of  their  language.  The  meeting 
closed  with  another  hymn,  and  after  many  salutations  and 
much  bowing  we  departed. 

Sitting  on  the  doorsteps  once  more,  we  put  on  our  boots, 
and  my  missionary  friend  turned  and  said  to  our  hosts, 
"Sayonara"  (good-bye),  I  thought  I  could  manage  as  much 
as  that,  so  I,  too,  said  "Sayonara,"  and  the  good  sisters 
laughed  and  bowed  and  seemed  much  interested. 

Afterwards  I  visited  other  Jai)anese  homes,  and  all  were 
attractive  places.  Clean,  white,  soft  matting  on  the  floors, 
the  ever-present  vase  of  flowers,  the  i)retty  screens,  even  the 
absence  of  furniture  was  pleasant  to  one  who  had  been 
accustomed  to  see  so  many  over-furnished  and  over-decorated 
American  homes. 

I  cannot  say  that  I  enjoyed  Japanese  refreshments.  I 
took  several  lessons  in  the  use  of  chopsticks,  but  never  be- 
came proficient  in  managing  them.  It  must  require  years 
of  practice  to  use  them  skillfully  and  gracefully. 

I  remember  especially  one  experience  soon  after  we 
reached  Japan.  I  had  been  at  a  woman's  prayer  meeting 
and  at  the  close  refreshments  were  brought  in.  We  sat  on 
the  floor  in  true  Japanese  style,  not  a  very  comfortable 
fashion  for  one  who  is  not  accustomed  to  it.    Our  hostess 


AN   EMBARRASSED  GUEST. 


Gil 


served  refreshments  on  little  square  trays  of  lacquer  work, 
setting  one  tray  on  the  floor  in  front  of  each  guest.  On 
each  tray  was  a  little  bowl  of  bean  soup,  a  pair  of  chop 
sticks,  a  cup  of  tea,  some  little  cakes,  two  oranges,  and  four 
persimmons.  I  looked  at  mine  in  despair,  for  I  was  not 
hungry  and  did  not  know  just  how  much  native  eti(|uette 
required  me  to  eat. 

Evidently  the  bean  soup  was  the  thing  to  begin  with.     I 
watched  the  others  and  then  began  on  mine  as  they  did  on 


I 

be- 
?ars 

we 

{mg 

on 

Lble 

less 


.lAPANESK    IlEFKEPIIMKNTS. 

theirs,  eating  the  beans  and  the  rice  cakes  Avith  the  chop- 
sticks and  drinking  the  soup  from  the  bowl.  The  rice  cake 
was  too  big  to  eat  whole  and  it  was  certainly  rather  hard  to 
manage  with  the  chopsticks.  Moreover  the  soup  was  sweet- 
ened, and  as  I  prefer  salt  and  pepper  in  soup,  I  did  not  en- 
joy it  very  much. 

However,  I  struggled  with  my  chopsticks  and  fished  out 
as  many  beans  as  I  could,  and  drank  the  soup.  But  those 
beans  were  a  delusion  and  a  snare.  After  Avrestling  with 
the  chopsticks  and  at  last  catching  a  bean  I  Avould  raise  it  to 


: 


612 


CHOPSTICK  OYMNASTICS. 


I 


my  lips,  my  mouth  would  ojwii  to  receive  it  —  and  down 
would  go  tiio  Ijean  into  the  soup..  Then  I  would  drink  a 
little  SOU])  and  try  again.  I  succeeded  in  capturing  several 
beans,  l)ut  it  was  the  work  of  time  and  patience,  and  at  last 
I  gave  it  uj);  fori  found  that  the  others  had  all  iinished 
theirs  and  had  leisure  to  observe  my  frantic  efforts. 

The  tea  was  very  sti-ong,  without  milk  or  sugar,  but  it 
was  served  in  such  dainty  china  cups  that  one  could  hardly 

i 


WAMtlNC    DAV    IN    .lAI'AN. 

refrain  from  di'inkiiig  it.  The  littic!  ciikes,  too,  were  good, 
and  the  oi-angcs  and  ])ei'simmons  delicious,  but  must  1  eat 
them  nWf 

As  I  watched  the  otliei'  guests,  T  saw  that  they  ate  what 
tliey  j)leiis(!d  and  put  the  rest  in  tiieir  sleeves.  ISly  sleeves 
wei'e  not  lai'ge  enough  to  l)e  v(;ry  usc^ful  in  that  way,  but 
my  missionary  friend  pi'oduced  a  handkerchief  which  sh(5 
had  thoughtfully  pi'ovidcd  for  the  occasion,  and  the  left-over 
dainties  were  carried  home. 

After  we  had  pai'takeii  of  refi'eslnneiits  came  the  leave- 


A  CKUEMONIOUS   LEAVE-TAKINO. 


U13 


taking,  which  couhl  not  bo  hurriod.  Ono  at  a  time  the 
hulies  rose  and  l)o\ve(l  to  tlie  lloor,  first  before  the  iiostess 
and  tiien  before  eacii  of  the  other  guests.  As  th<;re  were 
twenty-live  or  tiiii'ty  ladies  prescMit  it  was  some  time  before; 
the  pro})or  amount  of  l)owing  was  (h)ne ;  l)ut  at  lengtii  the 
last  farewell  was  si)oken  and  stepping  into  our  jini'ik'ishas 
we  were  ti'undled  through  the  nai'row  streets  and  back  to 
our  home. 

I    have    nevei-    exp(M'i- 
cnced  sleei)ing  in   a,  .laj)-  ;•.  i. 


anese  bed,  but  I  saw  a 
good  many  of  them  and 
they    looked    inviting. 


Thick 


eomfortaliUss   were 


laid  (»n  soft,  white  straw 
matting,  Imt  Ihi;  hard, 
I'ound  |)ill()W  (lid  not  seem 
comhieive  to  I'est.  The; 
fla]>anese  wooden  |)iilow 
never  had  any  attractions 
for  me,  thoiigli  unless  one 
tries  to  copy    tla^    rearful 


and 


woiu 


lerful 


slvi(!   ol 


haii'-dressing  adopted  by  many  .Japanesf!  women  tli(!i'(!  is  no 
need  of  using  it. 

A  missionary  school  in  any  foreign  land  is  always  an  in- 
teresting place.  I  i'eni(!mber  going  into  one  of  them  in 
.la|)an  just  at  the  tinu^  when  the  Moral  prolessor  (if  that  is 
liis  tide)  was  giving  lessons  in  the  ai'i'angement  of  flowers. 
It  was  a  pi-etty  sight  to  watch  a  demui'c;  .Japanese  maiden  as 
she  took  up  a  little  Mower  stalk,  oi' adry  twig  broken  from 
a  leaMess  tree,  and  ti'ie(|  it  Mrst  in  one  position  and  then  in 
another,  turning  her  head  [H'ettily  to  one  side;  and  then  to 


614 


THE  ART  OF  ARRANGING  FLOWERS. 


the  other,  all  the  time  looking  anxiously  at  the  flower  to 
study  the  effect,  Avhile  the  professor  looked  gravely  on  or 
offered  an  occasional  suggestion. 

From  one  pupil  to  another  the  professor  went  just  as  I 
have  seen  a  teacher  of  drawing  go  around  among  his  pupils, 
giving  a  word  of  praise  here,  offering  a  suggestion  there,  or 
a  criticism  somewhere  else.  How  earnestly  the  girls  worked 
at  their  task,  and  how  pleased  they  were  with  a  word  of 
commendation ! 

At  first,  one  is  inclined  to  question  whether  their  time 
might  not  be  more  profitably  employed ;  but  as  I  saw  the 
results  of  their  skillful  and  artistic  work  in  the  graceful  ar- 
rangements of  flowers,  and  thought  of  some  of  the  useless 
fancy  work  I  had  seen  girls  do  in  American  homes,  it 
seemed  to  me  that  this  part  of  a  Japanese  maiden's  educa- 
tion is  worthy  of  all  praise  and  could  well  be  followed  by 
girls  of  other  lands.  Such  a  tasteful  arrangement  of  flowers 
was  new  to  my  American  eyes.  Who  would  have  thought 
that  four  or  five  dry  twigs  broken  from  a  leafless  tree  would 
make  such  an  artistic  bouquet,  or  that  a  vase  with  only 
three  sprays  of  chrysanthemums  could  be  so  beautiful  ? 

After  looking  at  these  dainty  vases,  each  one  holding  but 
three  or  four  sprays  and  only  one  kind  of  flower,  each  spray 
arranged  with  careful  reference  to  the  others  and  all  droop- 
ing in  the  most  graceful  manner, — how  coarse  and  awkward 
our  great  round  American  boutjuets  seemed,  with  all  kinds 
of  flowers,  arranged  often  without  the  slightest  regard  to 
color  or  harmony.  I  shall  never  look  at  another  bouquet 
without  thinking  of  the  beautiful  flowers,  always  artistically 
arranged,  that  can  be  seen  in  so  many  homes  in  Japan. 

Twice  a  week,  in  some  of  the  schools,  the  girls  spend  an 
hour  Avith  the  floral  professor  in  studying  this  science ;  for  it 
is  a  real  science  as  they  take  it  up,  and  there  are  definite 


NOT  PAR  BEHIND  THEIR  SISTERS. 


615 


or 


rules  governing  not  only  the  arrangement  of  each  flower 
spray,  but  its  relation  to  all  the  other  sprays  and  to  the  vase 
that  is  to  hold  them. 

Let  it  not  be  thought,  however,  that  this  is  the  only  or 
most  important  study  taken  up  by  the  Japanese  girls. 
Many  of  these  mission  schools  would  rank  well  with  our 
own  high  schools  and  seminaries  at  home,  and  the  girls  at 
Kobe  College  or  the  Doshisha  Avould  compare  very  favor- 
ably with  the  girls  at  "Wellesley  or  Smith  or  Vassar. 


Ically 


Id  an 
lor  it 
linite 


87 


CHAPTER  III. 

AMONG  THE  WOMEN  AND  CHILDREN  OF  INDIA -NATIVE 
DRESS  AND  ORNAMENTS  —  LIFE  INSIDE  A  RICH  HEATH- 
EN HOME  — HEATHEN  DOLLS,  BRIDES,  AND  WIDOWS. 

Children  in  Ceylon  —  Persistent  Little  Beggars  —  Curly-Headed  Karo  — 
"My  so  Poor"  —  Pretty  Brown  Babies  —  Little  Hands  Stretched  out 
for  Alms  —  Ceylon  Dandies  —  Picturesque  Waiters  —  A  Race  of  Beg- 
gars—Tipping an  Army  of  Attendants  —  Starting  on  a  Journey  at 
Three  o'clock  in  the  Morning  —  A  Wagon  Ride  of  Seven  Miles  in  the 
Moonlight  —  Through  the  Streets  of  Vellore  —  Arrival  at  a  Mission 
Bungalow  —  A  Native  Girl's  Boarding  School  —  A  Bridal  Trousseau  in 
Red  and  Yellow  —  Life  Inside  a  Heathen  Home  —  Our  Reception  by  the 
"Bo"  —  A  Peep  into  the  "Baboo's"  Apartments  —  A  Display  of 
Jewelry  —  An  American  Doll  in  India  —  A  Heathen  Doll  —  Mrs.  Grundy 
in  a  Zenana  —  Ten-Year-Old  Brides  —  Child  Widows. 


NE  does  not  always  realize,  when 
looking  at  the  little  spot  on  the 
map  marked  "Ceylon,"  Avhat  a 
big  island  it  is.  In  Colombo  I 
was  much  interested  in  the  little 
brown-faced,  black-eyed  children, 
many  of  them  beggars,  and  the 
most  persistent,  irresistible  beg- 
gars I  ever  met.  Whenever  any 
of  them  intercepted  me  in  my 
walks  I  was  Avholly  at  their 
mercy,  for  it  was  almost  impos- 
sible to  say  "  no  "  to  such  winsome,  tiny  pleaders. 

I  remember  especially  one  small  maiden  who  told  me  her 
name  was  Karo.  Her  tangled  curly  hair  fell  to  her 
shoulders,  her  black  eyes  sparkled,  and  her  merry  brown 

(610) 


A  MERRY  LITTLE  BEGGAR. 


617 


I  beg- 
any 
my 
their 
ipos- 

her 
her 
town 


face  made  a  most  interesting  picture.  She  wore  a  bright  red 
cloth,  gracefully  draped,  and  her  brown  arms  and  hands 
were  covered  with  bracelets,  bangles,  and  rings. 

She  was  among  the  first  to  greet  us  when  we  left  the 
steamer,  and  persistently  followed  us  to  our  hotel,  which 
was  only  a  few  steps  away,  begging  all  the  time.  "  Mama, 
give  my  a  penny,  my  so  poor.  ^^^j|§5^*^^l|^:fcj,, 
Please,  mama,  just  one  penny. 
I  make  you  salaam,  you  just 
give  one  penny,  my  very  hun- 
gry, my  so  poor,  you  got  plen- 
ty money,  my  so  hungry," 
Then  she  would  draw  doAvn 
the  corners  of  her  mouth  and 
put  on  a  })ensive  look,  and  in 
spite  of  herself  would  break 
into  a  merry  smile.  She  did 
not  appear  to  be  suffering 
from  hunger,  neither  was  she 
very  poor  as  one  reckons  pov- 
erty in  Ceylon,  yet  it  was 
almost  impossible  to  resist  her 
importunities.  She  was  quick 
to  see  my  helplessness  and  was 
always  lying  in  wait  for  me. 

The  little  brown  babies  in  Ceylon  were  attractive,  too. 
Almost  every  woman  carried  a  baby  sitting  astride  her  hip, 
while  she  threw  one  arm  around  it  to  keep  it  from  falling, 
and  the  little  creatures  looked  around  with  as  much  interest 
and  wonder  as  any  American  baby  wouhl  show. 

It  was  simply  impossible  to  pass  them  by  without  speak- 
ing to  them,  and  at  least  patting  their  chubby  hands. 
Generally  the  little  hand  opened  for  a  penny,  for  they  learn 


COIiOMUO   CIllLUUEN. 


618 


MEN    IN   GIRLISH   ATTIRE. 


to  beg  before  they  learn  to  walk.  It  is  comparatively  easy 
to  resist  a  larger  beggar,  but  when  a  little  hand  is  stretched 
out  for  alms  the  temptation  to  give  is  very  strong. 

The  people  in  Colombo  are  all  interesting,  because  so 
many  different  nationalities  are  represented  —  Hindus,  Por- 
tuguese, Malays,  Singhalese,  and  many  others,  each  one 
seemingly  more  picturesque  than  the  others.    Many  of  the 

men  wore  their  hair  long  and 
done  up  in  a  pug  behind,  while 
others  wore  round  combs  on 
the  top  of  their  heads,  such  as 
little  girls  at  home  often  wear 
to  keep  their  hair  out  of  their 
eyes.  Imagine  a  tall,  full- 
bearded,  imposing  looking 
man,  brown  faced  and  bare- 
footed, dressed  in  a  white  jack- 
et, Avitli  a  plaid  skirt  reaching 
down  to  his  knees,  a  round 
comb  on  the  top  of  his  head, 
and  a  generous  pug  behind. 
This  is  a  picture  of  all  the 
Avaiters  at  the  hotel,  and  they 
make  the  dining-room  so  pic- 
turesque that  there  seems  to 
be  no  need  of  using  other  decorations. 

Then  there  are  men  Avith  long,  black,  curly  hair  parted 
in  the  middle,  and  falling  in  ringlets  on  their  shoulders,  and 
young  men  of  eighteen  or  nineteen,  who  look  so  much  like 
girls  that  it  is  hard  to  tell  whether  they  are  men  or  women. 
All  wear  ear-rings,  and  many  of  them  wear  bracelets,  too. 
One  man  was  adorned  with  half  a  dozen  silver  bangles  hang- 
ing from  each  ear,  just  such  bangles  as  young  ladies  in 


A   HAITY   SIOTHEK. 


FIVE  MILES  IN  A  LITTLE  BOAT. 


019 


America  would  wear  for  bracelets.  The  babies  wear  little 
or  no  clothing,  just  a  string  of  beads  around  the  neck,  and 
sometimes  a  string  around  the  waist,  but  plentifully  decorated 
with  bangles  and  bracelets. 

,  The  voyage  from  Colombo  to  Tuticorin  is  sliort,  and  it 
hardly  seemed  worth  while  to  un[)ack  our  goods  and  set  up 
housekee])ing  again  just  for  a  single  night.  Everyone  had 
promised  us  a  rough  passage,   but   we   were   wonderfully 


riTIKlL    IJTTLK    CUEATL'HKS. 

favored  and  succeeded  in  getting  across  without  seasickness 
or  tribulations  of  any  kind. 

It  was  a  trial  to  me  to  have  to  anchor  five  miles  from 
land  and  go  ashore  in  a  small  boat.  Tlie  water  was  rough, 
but  we  all  survived  a  thorough  shaking  up  and  rejoiced  to 
find  ourselves  safe  on  terra  Jinna  again. 

What  a  difference  all  at  once  in  the  people  and  their  cos- 
tumes !  The  ])rcttv  babies,  merry  children,  and  curly-headed 
men  had  vanished,  and  in  their  places  were  men,  Avomen,  and 


G20 


FEEINO   A   llECilMENT. 


children,  with  brown  faces,  to  bo  sure,  l)ut  neither  good  look, 
iiig  nor  |)ictures(iue.  The  men  were  (b-essed  in  white  clotli, 
instead  ol"  bright  red  skirts,  and  tlie  babies  were  most  pitiful 
little  creatures.  The  women  and  girls  were  adorned  with 
chea[)  brass  finery,  ear-rings,  finger-rings,  toe-rings,  anklets^ 
bracelets,  n(!cklaces,  and  nose  jewels,  all  in  such  abundance 
that  they  reminded  us  of  the  old  nursery  rhyme, 

"  Itin^H  on  lier  tlti^orH  and  bollH  on  lior  toes, 
And  Hlie  hIiuII  have  muuic  wherever  hIu;  goes." 

There  were  no  English-sj)eaking  |M!ople  to  be  found,  and 
we  were  not  well  versed  in  Tamil ;  l)ut  by  m(ians  of  gestures 
and  the  use  of  vigorous  Knglish,  w(5  su(!ce(;ded  in  engaging 
some  of  the  natives  to  carry  our  luggage  to  the  custom  house, 
and  then  to  the  station,  and  after  a  hasty  tiMin  and  a  ride 
through  the  hot,  dusty  little  town,  Ave  were  glad  to  find  our- 
selves seated  in  the  train  for  Madura. 

Th(!n  what  a  retinue  of  num  gathenid  around  us  begging 
for  remun(!ration  for  some  real  or  fancied  service  which  tlusy 
had  rendered  us !  There  W(!re  the  four  men  who  had  brought 
our  luggage  to  the  station  ;  the  man  who  gave  us  our  tillln  ; 
the  man  who  waited  upon  us  at  table ;  the  man  Avho  cooked 
the  food  ;  the  men  who  stood  hy  and  watch(;d  us  eat  it ;  the 
])unkah-wal!ah,  who  |)ulled  tin;  |)unkah  for  us;  the  man  who 
stood  by  our  luggage  while  wo  were  gone  to  tiffin  ;  the  nuin 
Avho  drove  us  around  the  town  ;  the  men  who  lifted  our  lug- 
gage from  the  ])latl'oi'in  into  the  car;  the  man  who  picked 
up  ak(iy  which  had  l)<;en  dropped  ;  the  num  who  stood  and 
looked  on  while  he  did  it;  to  say  nothing  of  all  the  men  who 
wanted  to  do  som(!thing  for  us,  and  who  also  wished  to  bo 
renH'inluM'ed. 

Fortunat(;ly  none  of  tluMii  (expected  a,  large  sum,  and  they 
were  paid  olf  and  dismissed  just  as  the  train  started  on  tho 
long,  slow  journ(!y  to  Madura, 


A  TKIP  TO   VELLOKE. 


621 


A  visit  to  tli(^  girls'  boiirdin^  scli  n)l  sit  Vrllorc!  uironlcd  a 
gliinj)S(!  of  ^irl  iilV;  in  India  at  onc«^  inUirostin^  and  instruct- 
ive. W(!  started  from  Madanapali  at  three  o'clock  in  tho 
mornin«^.  TIkj  boys  of  tlu;  mission  school  W(!r<5  uj),  even  at 
that  early  hour,  to  se(5  us  olf,  and,  escorting  us  to  the  gate, 
thoy  sung  us  a  farewell  song  as  \v(;  starte<l  olF  in  the  moon- 
light for  the  sev(in-inile  drive  to  the  railroad  station,  where 
we  arrivcid  just  after  sunris(\ 

The  cars  of  the  South  Indian  railway  are  not  the  most 
comfortable  in  the  world,  and  after  a  long,  hot,  dusty  ride, 
we  arrived  at  Vcillore  at  three  o'cloijk  in  the  afternoon.  To 
one  who  only  looks  at  the  map,  the  two  little  dots  which 
stand  for  Madanapali  and  Vellore  look  very  near  together, 
but  the  journi^y  takiw  nearly  twelve  lujurs. 

After  ling(!i'ing  around  the  station,  wondering  how  wo 
were  going  to  lind  our  missionary  friends,  we  were  accosted 
l)y  a  native,  dr(!ss(!d  in  a  white  cloth  and  a  white  turban, 
who  held  a  piece  of  ])aper  in  his  hand.  lb;  could  not  speak 
a  word  of  Knglish,  nor  we  of  Tamil,  but  as  the  j»aper  bore  a 
familiar  name  we  took  it  for  granted  that  he  had  been  sent, 
an<l  follow(!(l  him  to  a  carriage  which  stood  near  by  with 
seats  for  thrcie. 

II«;  indicat«!d  to  us  by  g<»stures  tliat  we  wen;  to  g(!t  in  and 
drive;,  and  although  we  had  no  idea  which  way  to  go  wo 
seated  ourselv(!S  in  the  carriage  and  drove  olf,  tlu!  native 
running  on  Ixshind  or  on  ojk;  side,  occasionally  going  on  in 
front  to  clear  the  way.  A\'U)v  a  dcilightful  drive;  through 
th(;  (H)()l,  shady  stre(;ts  of  Vellore,  we  (lr(;w  uj)  at  last  in 
front  of  tin;  mission  bungalow,  wh(;re  a  cordial  W(;lcomo 
await(!(l  us. 

Tin;  (iir-Is'  Boarding  School  numbers  about  one  hun<Ir(;d 
and  lifty  girls  from  fourt(;(;n  to  twenty  years  old.  If  the 
mission  schools  of  India  liad  done  nothing  else  th(;y  would 


C22         *  BOARDING  SCHOOL  GIRLS. 

be  deserving  of  lil)cral  support  for  having  saved  so  many 
girls  from  the  evils  of  child  marriage.  But  that  is  very 
little  compared  with  what  the  missionaries  have  done  and 
are  doing  for  the  girls  and  women  of  India. 

Some  of  the  older  girls  Avere  getting  ready  to  be  married, 
and  were  making  their  wedding  skirts  of  bright  yellow  cloth 
with  large  red  figures.  Others  were  busy  with  their  books 
or  their  sewing. 

A  run  over  the  ])uilding,  and  a  peep  into  the  sleeping 
rooms,  dining-room,  kitchen,  and  school-room  followed. 

All  the  girls  sleep  in  one  large  room.  Each  bed  consists 
of  a  long,  wide  l)oard  over  which  is  laid  a  piece  of  straw 
matting.  The  board  is  laid  on  the  floor,  the  matting  is 
thrown  over  it  and  the  bed  is  made.  Each  girl  has  also 
a  sheet  and  a  blanket  that  she  can  use  if  the  weather  is  cool. 
A  large  brass  dish,  about  the  size  and  shape  of  a  wash  basin, 
and  a  brass  drinking  cup,  comprise  all  the  dishes  furnished 
to  each  girl.  Ilice,  curry,  and  plantains  constitute  the  usual 
food.  They  are  neat  in  their  habits,  and  although  they  eat 
with  their  fingers,  they  do  so  in  the  prettiest  and  daintiest 
manner.  As  for  clothing,  all  they  really  need  is  a  cloth  of 
any  bright  color,  which  they  know  how  to  drape  very  grace- 
fully. Many  of  them,  however,  do  wear  a  skirt  as  Avell  as  a 
cloth. 

Toe  rings  and  anklets  seem  to  answer  all  the  purpose  of 
shoes  and  stockings. 

These  girls  receive  a  fair  education,  learn  to  sew  and  to 
care  for  their  homes  and  families,  and  best  of  all,  most  of 
them  return  to  their  homes  as  Christian  girls. 

Going  one  day  with  a  missionary  friend  in  Calcutta  to 
visit  some  of  her  Zenana  friends,  I  had  a  rare  opportunity  to 
see  life  in  a  rich  heathen  home.  The  house  was  a  large 
three-story  one  with  an  open  court  in  the  center  into  which 


THE   "bo"   and  her  TREASURES. 


688 


lof 

to 
of 

to 
Ito 

3h 


rooms  opened  from  jill  sides  of  tlie  building.  A  servant 
answered  our  knock  at  the  door,  and  in  rc})ly  to  our 
incpiirios  told  us  that  the  "bo"  would  be  glad  to  see  us  up 
stairs.  I  Avondered  why  the  "  bo  "  did  not  come  to  meet  us, 
but  soon  discovered  for  myself  that  it  would  not  have  been 
proper  for  anyone  in  her  scant  attire  to  come  downstairs. 

She  met  us  at  the  top  of  the  stairs  and  invited  us  into  her 
private  a])artments  on  the  third  floor.  She  was  pr<jud  of 
her  parlor,  which  was  furnished  with  three  chairs,  a  mirror, 
and  a  book-case  with  glass  doors,  in  Avhich  she  kept  her 
special  treasures  and  bi'ic-a-brac,  consisting  of  little  pewter 
and  cliina  tea  sets,  toy  match-safes,  cheap  vases  and  images  ; 
and  on  the  top  shelf,  far  out  of  reach  of  little  lingers,  was 
an  American  dcjll  which  had  been  given  as  a  prize  for  regu- 
lar attendance  and  good  behavior  at  the  mission  school. 
The  little  owner  of  the  doll  looked  at  it  wistfully,  but  she 
was  never  allowed  to  touch  it.  "  Do  you  ever  play  with 
it?"  I  asked,  through  the  interpreter  who  accompanied  us. 
"  No,  she  only  looked  at  it."  When  I  asked  if  she  had  a 
doll  that  she  did  ])lay  with,  she  brought  me  such  a  poor  con- 
sumptive image  of  green  and  red  clay  that  my  heart  was 
moved  with  pity,  not  only  for  her  but  for  the  little  brown 
maidens  all  over  India,  who  know  so  little  of  the  delights  of 
childhood. 

"  "Would  I  like  to  see  her  jewelry  ?  "  the  mother  asked  me. 
Of  course  I  would.  Whereupon,  she  brought  forth  her  jewel 
box,  and  spread  before  us  such  an  array  of  gold  and  silver 
and  precious  stones  and  strings  of  pearls  rarely  seen  outside 
of  a  jewelry  store.  There  Avere  rings,  bracelets,  anklets, 
nose  jewels,  earrings,  finger  rings,  and  chains,  most  of  them 
of  solid  gold  or  silver.  The  heavy  bracelets  were  of  solid 
gold,  and  so  were  the  costly  anklets  and  earrings  which 
looked  as  though  they  Avould  be  burdensome  to  Avear. 


624  '  **  MRS.  GRUNDY "   IN   INDIA. 

* 

"  Would  I  let  her  look  at  my  jewelry  ? "  she  asked.  Cer- 
tainly I  would.  I  showed  lier  my  watch  and  phiin  gold 
ring,  remarking,  that  while  her  ornaments  were  very  pretty, 
I  should  think  they  would  be  troublesome  to  carry,  adding, 
that  mine  were  all  I  cared  to  wear. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  reflectively,  "  Your  way  is  the  best  and 
my  bracelets  and  anklets  hurt  me,  and  I  do  not  like  to  wear 
them  very  often,  but  must  sometimes  or  people  would  not 
know  I  had  them."  So  I  found  that  even  in  the  Zenana 
Mrs.  Grundy  holds  swa\'. 

Before  we  left  the  "  bo  "  invited  us  into  the  "  baboos " 
apartments,  which  were  on  the  second  floor  and  were  much 
more  elegant  than  his  wife's.  She  also  showed  us  her  son's 
room,  and  a  poorer,  smaller  one  where  her  little  daughters 
slept.  Then  escorting  us  to  the  top  of  the  stairs,  she  bade  us 
good-bye,  and  we  were  left  to  find  our  w  ay  out  alone. 

So  we  left  this  poor  "  bo "  to  live  her  secluded  life,  the 
monotony  of  which  was  broken  only  by  combing  her  hair, 
doing  a  little  embroidery,  gossipping  with  neighbors  who 
chanced  to  call,  and  looking  at  her  jewelry. 

We  were  in  India  in  February,  the  popular  month  for 
weddings,  and  almost  every  day  we  heard  the  sound  of  music 
announcing  a  wedding  procession,  and  often  saw  the  youth- 
ful bridegroom  and  his  tiny  bride.  My  heart  was  moved 
with  pity  for  these  little  brides.  The  little  AvidoMS,  too, 
aroused  my  deepest  sympathy.  Just  think  of  it,  mothers  at 
home  !  Think  of  a  ten-year-old  widow,  doomed  to  a  life  of 
misery  and  woe,  because  it  is  supposed  to  be  her  fault  if  her 
husband  dies.  When  I  think  how  we  cherish  and  guard  our 
own  daughters  at  home,  doing  our  best  to  keep  sorrow  and 
trouble  away  from  them,  and  then  remember  these  poor 
little  children,  my  heart  cries  aloud  for  help  to  rescue  the  be- 
nighted women  and  innocent  children  of  India. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


, " 


A  WOMAN'S  JOURNEY  ACROSS  TURKEY  IN  A  WAGON  — A 
MEMORABLE  NIGHT  IN  A  TURKISH  KHAN  — TURKISH 
VILLAGE  LIFE  -  INTERESTING  PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES. 

Learning  by  Experience  — My  Trnveling  Companions — "Coming  out 
Strong  "  —  Marli  Tiiploy's  Opinion  of  the  Sea  —  Our  First  Experiences  in 
a  Turkish  Custom  House  —  Searching  for  Concealed  Boolts  and  Papers 
—  A  Novel  Cavalcade  —  In  a  Turkish  Khan  —  A  Memorable  Night  — 
Rooming  with  Donkeys,  Camels,  and  Horses  —  Our  Wash  Basin  — 
Over  the  Taurus  Mountains  —  An  American  Spring  Wagon  in  Asia 
Minor  —  A  Dismal  Prospect  —  Filth  and  Dirt  Everywhere  —  Sickening 
Sights  in  Village  Streets  —  Hobson's  Choice  —  In  a  Native  House  — 
Putting  an  Armenian  Baby  to  Bed  —  A  Cheerful  Infant  —  A  Peep  into 
Paradise  —  Dirty  Turks  —  Eating  out  of  the  Same  Dish  with  Them  — 
A  Plague  of  Fleas  —  Some  Pointed  Questions. 


for 
lusic 
ith- 
Ived 
Itoo, 
Is  at 
of 
I  her 
lour 
ind 
Joor 
be- 


T  is  hardly  possible  for  women  in 
America,  accustomed  to  journey- 
ing in  express  trains  and  luxuri- 
ous drawing-room  cars,  to  under- 
stand just  what  a  journey  of  sev- 
eral hundred  miles  across  Turkey 
in  a  wagon  was  to  the  one  "  lone, 
lorn  woman "  who  accomplished 
it,  and  Avhose  companions  were 
seven  men !  How  she  counted  up 
the  comforts  and  blessings  of  life 
in  the  homeland,  and  how  often 
she  resolved,  that  if  she  ever  lived  to  see  her  native  land 
again  she  would  never  complain  of  any  har(\ships  or  tribula- 
tions which  come  to  an  ordinary  housekeeper  in  America ! 

How  many  lessons  she  learned  of  thankfulness  for  small 

( G25 ) 


62G 


"jolly"  experiences. 


mercies !  How  soon  she  learned,  too,  that  it  was  possible  to 
live  without  a  good  many  things  that  most  people  count 
among  the  necessities  of  life. 

The  whole  trip  across  Turkey  from  the  landing  at  Mersin 
to  our  departure  from  Constantinople,  Avas  what  Mark  Tap- 
ley  would  have  called  "  jolly."  "  I'm  alwaj's  a  thinking," 
said  that  cheerful  philosopher,  "  that  with  my  good  health 
and  spirits  it  would  be  more  creditable  in  me  to  be  jolly 
Avhere  there's  things  a  going  on  to  make  one  dismal.  It  ma}"" 
be  a  mistake  of  mine,  you  see,  but  nothing  short  of  trying 
hoAv  it  acts,  will  set  it  right.  I  don't  believe  there  ever  was 
a  man  as  could  come  out  so  strong  under  circumstances  that 
would  make  other  men  miserable  as  I  could,  if  I  could  only 
get  a  chance." 

Some  of  our  experiences  on  the  Mediterranean  Sea  were 
ver}'-  like  Mark  Ta})ley's  description  of  life  at  sea. 

"  The  sea,"  he  continues,  "  is  as  nonsensical  a  thing  as 
anvthino'  "'oin"^.  It  never  knows  what  to  do  with  itself.  It 
hasn't  got  no  employment  for  its  mind,  and  is  always  in  a 
state  of  vacancy.  Like  them  polar  bears  in  the  wild  beast 
shows,  as  is  constantly  nodding  their  heads  from  side  to  side, 
it  never  can  be  quiet,  which  is  entirely  owing  to  its  uncom- 
mon stupidity," 

''  Is  that  vou,  ]\Iark  'i "  asked  a  faint  voice  from  another 
berth. 

•'  Its  as  much  of  me  as  is  left,  sir,  after  a  fortnight  of 
this  work,"  Mr.  Tapley  replied.  "  What  Avith  leading  the 
life  of  a  fly  ever  since  I've  been  aboard  (for  I've  been  perpet- 
ually holding  on  to  something  or  other,  in  an  upside  down 
position),  Avhat  Avith  that,  sir,  and  putting  a  A'ery  little  into 
myself,  and  taking  a  good  deal  out  in  various  Avays,  there 
ain't  too  much  of  me  to  swear  by.  It  is  creditable  to  keep 
up  one's  spirits  here.     Virtue's  its  own  reward.     So's  jollity." 


wa»|i  p  «»■<«»■  I 


RUDE  CUSTOM   HOUSE  OFFICIALS. 


627 


To  at  least  one  of  the  three  pilgrims,  the  Mediterranean 
Sea  has  left  some  jolly  memories.  The  landing  at  Mersin 
was  "  jolly  "  ;  trying  to  walk  down  the  steps  from  the  steamer 
into  the  little  boat  which  takes  passengers  ashore,  was  not  the 
easiest  thing  in  the  world ;  the  tossing  about  on  the  rough 
waves,  and  the  landing  at  the  steps,  and  the  rough  greeting 
from  the  Turkish  Custom  House  officials,  all  these  things 
were  sufficiently  "jolly". 

No  one  who  has  not  tried  it  can  quite  realize  how  trying 
to  a  woman's  soul  Avas  the  treatment  given  to  those  trunks 
in  that  Turkish  Custom  House.  Unfortunately  for  the  pil- 
grims, one  of  the  first  discoveries  made  by  the  inspectors  was 
a  book.  Then,  alas  for  the  traveleiN^  and  alas  for  the  trunks ! 
Such  rummaging,  such  unrolling  of  bundles  and  opening  of 
boxes  and  packages,  such  searching  for  concealed  books  or 
papers,  until  at  last  every  book  had  been  seized,  and  our 
crumpled  clothing  and  crushed  bundles  and  packages  were 
tossed  back  into  the  trunks  in  one  confused  mass !  From  the 
first  moment  those  rude  inspectors  opened  our  trunks  until 
our  dismantled  and  disheveled  belongings  Avere  thrown  into 
them  again,  one  Avoraan  lost  all  the  res})ect  she  ever  had  for 
the  Turkish  government.  And  that  experience  in  the  Cus- 
tom House  Avas  only  a  sample  of  all  the  courtesy  and  kind- 
ness, or  the  lack  of  it,  that  Avas  shown  to  the  travelers  by 
Turkish  officials  in  all  that  memorable  journey  across  the 
country. 

I  think  Ave  all  breathed  a  great  sigh  of  relief  Avhen  at  last 
we  shook  the  dust  of  Constantinople  from  our  feet,  and 
sailed  aAvay  through  the  Dardanelles  to  Italy  and  the  Ionian 
shores. 

The  journey  began  at  Tarsus,  that  ancient  city  Avliere 
Paul  Avas  born.  The  Avagon,  Avhich  Avas  a  palatial  affair  for 
Turkey,  Avas  very  much  like  an  emigrant's  Avagon,  a  large, 


628  THE  "emigrant  train." 

heavy,  baggage  wagon  with  a  white  canvas  top.  The  pro- 
cession started  off  in  great  style,  first  the  Turkish  "  Zabtieh  " 
"  saddled,  bridled,  and  fit  for  the  fight,"  as  the  nursery 
rhyme  has  it,  then  the  white-covered  wagon  which  carried 
the  three  pilgrims  and  their  missionary  friend  who  was  also 
guide,  conductor,  and  driver,  with  bedding  and  food  enough 
to  last  the  four  for  a  week;  and  last,  the  clumsy  native 
wagon  which  carried  the  trunks,  two  Turks  for  drivers,  and 
Ali,  our  Turkish  servant  and  trusty  helper. 

The  jouncing  and  jolting  and  the  thousand  and  one  dis- 
comforts, big  and  little,  soon  began  to  make  themselves  felt, 
and  we  realized  that  we  had  a  chance  "  to  come  out  strong." 

Twenty  or  twenty -five  miles  a  day  would  not  seem  to 
the  American  mind  to  be  much  of  a  journey,  but  it  made  up 
in  quality  what  it  lacked  in  quantity.  When  at  noon  the 
wagon  drew  up  before  a  Turkish  khan,  it  was  a  great  sur- 
prise, to  one  of  the  wayfarers  at  least,  to  be  invited  to  alight 
and  go  inside  to  eat  dinner. 

What !  go  into  such  a  place  as  that,  eat  dinner  there,  rest 
there !  Never,  so  long  as  she  had  the  spirit  of  a  woman 
would  she  so  demean  herself !  "■  Come  one,  come  all,  this 
rock  shall  fly  from  its  firm  base  as  soon  as  I,"  was  the  feel- 
ing in  her  heart  as  she  meekly  answered,  "  Would  it  not  be 
pleasanter  to  sit  right  here  in  the  wagon  and  eat  our  lunch 
in  the  open  air  ?  " 

Her  suggestion  was  accepted  and  the  first  dinner  was  a 
pleasant  picnic  lunch.  But  when  twilight  came  and  the 
wagon  drew  up  before  another  khan  even  more  unattractive 
in  its  appearance  than  the  first,  and  a  dismount  was 
inevitable,  the  one  forlorn  woman  in  the  party  felt  like  a 
veritable  "  Mrs.  Gummidge  "  when  she  found  it  was  really 
expected,  not  only  that  she  would  go  into  such  a  place,  but 
that  she  would  eat  her  supper  and  sleep  there. 


A  NIGHT  IN  A  TURKISH  KHAN. 


G39 


ras  a 

the 

}tive 

was 

Ike  a 

but 


However,  there  was  no  help  for  it,  and  she  meekly 
accepted  the  situation,  and  gathering  her  skirts  about  her, 
she  tiptoed  her  way  through  the  dirty  stable-yard  into  a 
little  low,  dark  room  opening  out  of  it,  and  tried  to  be 

"jolly". 

Who  shall  describe  that  first  night  in  a  Turkish  khan ! 
It  is  impossible  for  any  American  woman  to  appreciate  the 
situation. 

Imagine  a  little,  low  stone  building  mostly  under  ground, 
with  a  square  courtyard  in  the  middle,  out  of  which  three 
rooms  open.  One  of  these  rooms  was  assigned  to  the  pil- 
grims, one  to  the  Turkish  drivers  and  a  few  otlier  Turks,  and 
the  third  to  the  donkeys  and  camels  and  horses. 

Can  you  imagine  Avhat  the  best  room  in  the  khan  is 
like  ?  The  carpet  is  of  a  dark  brown  color  and  is  what  is 
commonly  known  as  dirt.  If  our  visit  had  happened  to  be 
in  rainy  weather  it  Avould  have  been  mud. 

There  was  one  small  mercy  to  be  thankful  for,  it  did  not 
rain.  Along  each  side  of  the  room,  about  two  feet  from  the 
floor,  were  wooden  platforms  about  four  feet  wide  with  just 
room  enough  to  walk  between  them.  On  one  of  these  plat- 
forms we  set  up  a  narrow  cot  bed,  and  arranged  our 
trunks,  boxes,  and  food ;  for  all  our  valuables  nmst  be 
kept  in  the  same  room  with  us  or  they  Avould  probably 
be  stolen.  On  the  other  platform  were  two  other  tipsy 
cot  beds  which  also  served  for  sofas  and  tables. 

The  walls  of  the  room  were  of  rough  stone  and  mortar, 
frescoed  with  smoke.  The  ceiling  was  of  rough  rafters  also 
frescoed  Avith  smoke.  The  chandelier  was  a  tallow  candle. 
This  room  was  to  be  not  oaly  sleeping-room,  but  sitting-room 
and  dining-room  and  parlor  for  all  of  us  !  The  other  occu- 
pants of  the  room  were  fleas  and  other  objectionable  room- 
mates.    This  room  was  a  fair  sample  of  the  quarters  in 


'I-O  THE  WEARIEST  WOMAN  IN  TURKEY. 

wliich  we  ate,  and  sle])t  every  night  during  the  wliole 
journey  across  Asia  :Minor.  There  was  abundant  ojipor- 
tunity  ''  to  come  out  stronir  ". 

In  the  morning  there  was  sometimes  a  mountain  stream 
to  wash  in,  and  that  was  a  great  luxury.  Oftener  there  M'as 
a  tin  or  brass  vessel,  something  like  a  teapot,  from  which  a 
little  Avater  could  be  poured  on  our  hands  and  an  unsatis- 
factory ajwlogy  for  a  bath  could  be  obtained. 

Nevertlieless,  the  journey  over  the  Taurus  mountains 
was  delightful  and  interesting,  and  the  scenery  was  gi'and 
enough  to  make  up  for  all  the  weariness,  discomfort,  and 
annoyance.  All  that  any  wagon  could  do,  that  wagon  did  ; 
but  there  are  limits  to  the  possibilities  of  even  an  American 
spring  wagon  in  Asia  Minor,  and  Avhen  the  road  was 
absolutely  impassable,  as  was  fre(juently  the  case,  Ave  Avere 
obliged  to  Avalk.  Anyone  Avho  could  have  looked  across  the 
lands  and  seas  at  the  close  of  the  last  day  of  that  Avagon 
journey  Avould  haA^e  seen  one  of  the  most  forlorn-lookino- 
Avomen  m  Turkey.  ^ 

After  traveling  for  days  across  a  barren,  treeless  plain, 
Ave  at  last  saAv  indications  of  approaching  civilization,  and  it 
Avas  evident  that  Ave  Avere  drawing  near  to  the  land  of 
railways.  The  villages  became  more  frequent  and  life  more 
interesting.  We  had  been  riding  all  day  from  six  o'clock  in 
the  morning  till  six  o'clock  at  niglit,  stoi)ping  at  noon  at  a 
little  Koordish  village  for  lunch,  Avhich  Ave  had  eaten  in  the 
Avagon.  Our  lunch  consisted  of  bread  —  Avhich  Avas  rather 
dry,  after  having  been  carried  in  the  Avagon  for  six  days  — 
some  native  butter,  Avhich,  at  its  best  Avas  never  invitino-, 
boiled  eggs,  cold  meat,  and  doughnuts,  all  of  Avhich  Avere 
stale  enough  after  their  long  journey.  It  AA'as  cold  in  the 
Avagon,  but  it  Avas  so  much  cleaner  than  any  other  place 
in  the  neighborhood  that  it  seemed  desirable  to  stav  there. 


AX   UNATTRACTIVE  OUTLOOK. 


631 


ipliiin, 

md  it 

ikI  of 

more 

(ck  ill 

I  at  a 
n  the 
[ather 

ys 

liting, 
were 

II  the 
[place 

ire. 


All,  our  trusty  servant,  succeeded  in  tindinj^  a  fire  some- 
where, sufficient  to  brew  some  tea,  which  made  the  r<'[)ast  a 
trifle  more  cheerful,  for  the  tea  at  k'ast  was  hot.  The 
village  was  one  of  the  poorest  and  dirtiest  on  tin;  route. 
From  my  seat  in  the  wagon  were  to  t)e  seen.  l)y  aetual 
count,  thirteen  dead  sheep,  a  dead  camel,  a  dead  dog,  and  a 
dead  <lonkey,  all  lying  in  the  villagi?  streets,  left  there  for 
nature  to  take  care  of.  Some  of  them  had  evidently  heen 
dea<l  a  g(^od  many  days.  Not  a  pleasant  outlook,  to  he  sure, 
nor  one  that  contributed  to  the  enjoyment  of  our  frugal 
meal. 

It  hardly  seems  possible  that  people  could  really  live 
amid  such  surroundings.  And  yet  the  little,  tlirty,  ragged 
chiUlren  trotted  about  the  streets,  })icking  their  way  past 
dead  aninuils  and  live  dogs  with  ecjual  indifference,  and 
apparently  as  happy  as  any  other  children  anywhere,  and 
looking  hale  and  hearty,  too,  in  spite  of  the  filth  and  dirt. 

We  often  found  compensation  for  all  the  jolting  over 
rough  roads  in  the  great  beautv  of  the  scenerv,  after  leaving 
the  barren  plain  and  getting  into  the  hilly  region  again, 
"With  a  north  wind  blowing  in  our  faces  all  dav  we  found 
ourselves  so  cold,  as  the  night  drew  near,  that  we  were  glad 
enough  when  at  last  we  reached  the  little  village  wluM'e  we 
were  to  spend  the  night,  knowing  full  well  wiiat  kind  of 
quarters  we  should  {)robably  find. 

Did  it  ever  happen  to  you,  my  sister,  to  take  a  long,  cold, 
wearisome  journey,  and  then  to  find  when  you  reached  home 
at  night,  a  warm,  pleasant  room,  with  a  bright,  cheery  open 
fire,  and  a  good  hot  sujiper  waiting  for  yt>u  '.  Did  you  not 
forget  all  the  weariness  of  the  journey  in  the  j)leasant  home- 
coming^ Visions  of  that  sort  entranced  us  occasionally  as 
we  journeyed,  but  alas,  they  were  only  visions.     What  we 

usuallv  found  at  the  en<l  of  the  day's  journey  was  the  same 
3« 


632  A   NIGHT    IN   A    STABLE. 

little  dirty  Turkish  village  of  low  stone  buildings,  occupied 
by  surly  Turks.  I  remember  one  night,  (sj)eciully,  when  the 
owners  of  the  miserable  house  were  so  cross  that  they  either 
could  not  or  would  not  find  the  key  to  the  only  guest 
chamber  in  the  village.  Thev  were  tired  and  hunffrv,  for  it 
was  the  month  of  "  Ramazan  ",  —  they  had  been  keeping  fast 
all  day  —  and  they  did  not  feel  amiable  enough  to  do  any- 
thing for  those  "Giaours". 

At  last,  however,  after  [)atient  waiting,  the  key  was  found 
and  the  door  unlocked.  Passing  tiirough  the  stable,  wliich 
was  worse  than  any  American  stable  could  ])ossibly  be,  then 
up  a  flight  of  dirty  stone  steps,  we  were  ushered  into  a  little 
room  directly  over  the  stable.  Leaving  me  to  my  own 
meditations,  the  men  hurried  out  to  unpack  the  wagon.  1 
looked  around  for  the  cleanest  place  in  the  I'oom,  l)Ut  there 
wasn't  any.  There  was  no  })lace  to  sit  down,  so  I  stood  uj), 
ghid  that  it  was  so  dark  tliat  I  couldn't  see  how  dirty  it  was. 
How  I  longed  for  my  own  cellar  at  home,  or  my  neighbor's 
barn  chamber  I  1  even  felt  a  sym])athy  for  the  prodigal  son 
wlien  lie  envied  his  father's  servants.  Fortunately  there  was 
not  much  time  for  the  dolefuls,  for  soon  the  tramping  of  feet 
on  the  stairs  i)roclaime(l  the  arrival  of  the  bed  and  trunks 
and  ])i'ovisions.  It  seemed  to  be  aljsolutely  necessary  either 
to  hiuirii  or  ci-y.  and  with  a  "  Ilerculaneum  effort ."  as  ^Irs. 
Partington  would  have  said.  I  decided  to  laugii.  The  cot 
beds  were  soon  set  up.  ami  one  of  them  served  foi'  a  table 
and  the  other  lor  a  lounge.  The  one  small  candle  gave  a 
feeble  light,  reminding  one  of  those  lines  of  ^lilton's, 

"  Xo  liirht  but  rather  darkness  visible 
Served  only  to  discover  scenes  of  woe." 

The  canvas-covered,  rickety  cot  bed  made  a  table  that 
was  never  to  be  de])ended  upon,  and  neither  was  it  so 
attractive  as  some:  l)ut  when  it  Avas  covered  Avith  a  table- 


IT  MIGHT   HAVE  BEEN   WORSE. 


633 


liat 

so 


cloth  it  answered  the  i)iirpose  very  well,  tiiid  luirnionized 
with  the  surroundings.  Ali  succeeded  in  getting  some  hot 
water,  and  made  something  whieli  he  averred  was  cocoa,  and 
though  we  had  neitlier  milk  nor  sugar  to  go  with  it,  we 
suj)i)ed  and  ate  our  dry  bread  and  stale  butter,  and  tried  to 
be  thankful  that  things  were  no  worse. 

When  the  door  of  the  room  was  shut  it  kept  out  some  of 
the  odors  of  the  stable.  There  were  three  tiny  little  win- 
dows in  the  room,  each  about  eight  or  nine  inches  scjuare 
and  completely  covered  with  ])aj)or  tiglitly  pa.sted  on. 
After  l>earing  it  as  long  as  we  could,  we  broke  some  of  these 
paper  panes  for  the  sake  of  fresh  air,  though  the  outside  air 
was  not  much  better  than  that  on  the  inside. 

Perhai)s  mv  readers  mav  wonder  whv  we  were  willinjr 
to  sleep  in  such  a  place,  but  such  W(^n<lering  is  easily  an- 
wered.  In  the  first  j)lace  it  must  be  said  that  we  did  not 
alcrjf  much,  we  only  stayed  there,  and  in  the  second  ))lace  it 
was  only  *•  II()l)s(;n's  choice'"— it  was  that  or  nothing. 
That  was  the  l)est  I'ooni  in  the  villaire,  and  the  next  village 
was  twenty  utiles  away. 

We  were  thankful  when  the  night  was  over  and  were 
perfectly  willing  to  rise  early  in  the  morning  and  go  on  our 
way.  The  experience  of  each  day  and  nigiit'was  very 
much  alike.  We  enjoyed  the  interesting  glimj»ses  of  home 
life  U)  be  seen  nowhere  else  than  on  such  a  journey  as  this, 
and  (jne  or  two  days  spent  with  native  Armenian  families 
added  .  'iety  to  the  experiences.  We  were  cordially  wel- 
comed in  these  native  Christian  homes  and  were  treated 
with  great  hospitality,  and  although  Armenian  ways  are  not 
American  wavs,  and  some  of  their  customs  were  not  easv  to 
adopt,  yet  we  retain  only  pleasant  memories  of  those  visits 
with  our  Armenian  friends. 

It  was  an  interesting  sight  to  see  a  tiny  Armenian  baby 


e84 


IN    ARMENIAN    HOMES. 


put  to  1)('<1  in  on(>  ol'  tlicse  hf)nies.  A  little  l)lanket  was  first 
kid  in  the  cradle,  then  a  small  sheet,  then  some  warm,  dry 
sand,  and  last  the  bahy.  The  sheet,  blanket,  and  two  or 
three  little  ijuilts  were  then  drawn  around  him,  and  the 
bal)y  was  securely  tied  (Unvn,  blankets  and  (juilts  and  all, 
and  there  he  must  lie  till  morning,  with  no  power  to  move 
anything  except  his  head.  The  little  one  usually  accepted 
the  situation  cheerfully  and  sul)mitted  with  good  c-race. 

The  Avomen  in  these  Christian  families  were  treated 
kindly  by  their  husbands,  but  their  position  was  an  inferior 
one.  They  waited  upon  their  husbands  and  their  guests 
at  the  talde,  and  then  took  their  own  meals  by  themselves 
afterwards.  They  appeared  hajjpy  anil  contented,  but  to  an 
Amei'ican  woman  their  lives  seemed  ha-d  and  narrow. 

But  what  a  joyful  company  we  were  when  the  first  part 
of  the  journey  was  over,  and  we  arrived  at  the  homes  of 
missionary  friends  in  Caesarea  and  Talas.  It  was  like  a  peep 
into  i)aradise  to  come  into  a  clean  Christian  home. 

How  we  ap])reciated  the  common,  every -day  mercies  that 
we  had  so  often  forgotten  before.  Did  you  ever  count  up 
your  mercies,  good  housekeepers  at  home  i  Do  you  know 
how  good  it  is  to  live  in  a  house  and  sleep  in  a  bed  ?  Are 
you  sufficiently  thankful  for  clean  dishes,  or  for  the  privi- 
lege of  nuiking  them  cleans  Are  you  grateful  for  cold 
watei-  and  a  clean  glass  to  drink  it  out  of^  Did  you  ever 
think  how  pleasant  it  is  to  have  a  ])late  all  to  yourself  to  eat 
breakfast  from,  instead  of  having  one  dish  set  in  the  center 
of  the  table  for  all  the  family  to  dip  their  spoons  into?  Are 
you  thankful  enough  for  the  good  bread  that  you  eat  every 
dav  i  Do  vou  ever  thank  the  Lord  that  you  have  not  a 
house  full  of  fleas?  Are  vou  thankful  that  vour  neiirhbor 
has  clean  hantls  so  that  you  can  shake  them  without  a 
shiver  i 


DISCOMFORTS   OF  THE   MISSKJNARIES. 


G35 


If  my  experiences  on  tliis  overland  journey  thi'oiiol, 
Turkey  serve  to  make  any  one  more  tliankful  for  the  hless- 
in-s  of  liome,  or  to  make  any  of  ns  iW\  i,„,ro  synipathv  for 
our  missionary  friends  wJio  have  to  enchire  manv  more  dis- 
comfoi-ts  than  have  been  liinted  at  heiv,  and  who  endure 
them  cheerfully  and  ghuUy  f,,,-  the  sake  of  tiie  u-ork,  then 
the  purjiose  for  which  this  brief  record  has  been  written  will 
have  been  accomplished. 


niAPTKR  V. 

(iOOD-IJYE. 
'GOD   BE   WITH   YOU    TU.L   WE  MEET  AGAIN." 

The  Dcparturo  from  8iin  Francisco  — Tim  Crowded  Wharf  —  "All  Ashore 
tliat's  Going  Ashore"- The  Song  of  Farewell  — Tiie  Captain's  Encoiir- 
agcniciit  —  <}()od  Cheer  for  All  —  A  Never-tohe  forgotten  Song— In 
Moreton  Hay  —  On  Hoard  the  ('fiui;/t>t  —  Our  Friends  on  the  Launch  — 
Chattering  Chinese  — A  Voice  from  the  Tarshmr  —  An  L'nappreciativo 
Listener — Another  Precious  Memory  —  At  a  Railway  Station  in  Oka- 
yama  —  Japanese^  Courtesy  —  The  Train  Waits  for  the  Song  —  In  a 
Chinese  Schoolroom  —  The  Lively  Little  Junior  —  The  Dear  Old  Hymn 
in  Chinese  — In  a  Little  Hill  Town  of  India  —  Departure  in  the  Early 
Morning  — Surroimded  by  (Hiosts — "  (Jod  He  With  You"  in  Hindu 
Dialect  —  A  Hrown  fa<ed  I5oy  Choir  —  Sweet,  Lingering  Echoes  —  A 
,  Blessed  Memorv  of  Friends  in  Distant  Lauds. 


fllE  f^ood  steamship  Mar'^pma  is 
just  ready  to  sail  from  San  Fran- 
cisco for  Sydney.  Tlie  last 
warning  has  been  given  —  "  All 
ashore  that's  going  ashore" — 
and  the  Avharf  is  crowded  with 
people  who  are  Availing  to  wave 
a  last  e:ood-l)ve  to  friends  on 
board.  The  last  whistle  sounds 
and  the  steamer  is  off.  But  as 
she  starts,  some  earnest  Christ- 
ian Endeavorers  on  the  shore  lift 

U))  their  voices,  and  the  sweet  strains  of  *'  God  be  with  you 

till  we  meet  again,"  float  on  the  air. 

The  passengers  are  walking  up  and  down  the  deck  talking 

busily  together,  but  thev  pause  a  minute  as  they  hear  the 

("g3G  ) 


BEfilNXINY!  THE   LONG  JOrRNEY 


G37 


lave 
on 

nds 
as 

■ist- 
lift 
rou 


mg 


lie 


sweet  sounds.  Tlie  captain  is  full  of  serious  thoughts  of  the 
long  voyage  bef(jre  iiiin,  and  of  the  great  res|)onsil)ility  tiiat 
rests  upon  him,  and  there  is  a  luni])  in  his  throat,  so  he  tells 
us  afterwards,  as  he  stops  to  listen  to  the  words: 

"  Wlion  lifc'.-t  perils  thick  ronfoiiiid  you, 
Put  His  luvini.f  arms  around  you." 

and  the  '*Ciod  be  with  you"  will  linger  in  his  mind  for  many 
a  day  as  he  sails  over  the  lonely  seas. 

The  sailors  who  are  hoisting  the  Stars  and  Stripes,  pause 
a  minute  as  they  catch  the  sound  of 

•■  Keep  love's  biinnor  floating  o'er  you," 

and  the  timid  passenger  who  feared  the  dangers  of  the  long 
voyage  was  cheered  as  she  heard  the  reassuring  words. 

Fainter  and  fainter  grow  the  sounds,  but  thi-ee  pilgi'ims 
still  linger,  looking:  lon":in<;lv  towards  the  shore  to  catch  the 
very  last  strains.  They  are  starting  <m  a  long,  long  journey, 
and  their  hearts  are  sore  at  the  thought  of  all  they  are  leav- 
ing behind  them,  and  of  the  long  year  that  must  intervene 
before  their  return.     As  the  last  faint 

"  God  be  witii  you  till  we  meet  again  " 

dies  away  upon  the  air,  their  hearts  are  cheered  and  com- 
forted, as  they  go  on  their  way. 

Perhaps  those  Christian  Endeavorcrs  will  never  know 
just  how  many  were  helped  and  strengthened  by  their  song 
that  hot  August  day,  but  those  Avho  were  helped  will  not 
soon  forget  the  song  or  the  singers. 

IX  AUSTRALIA. 
Once  more  the  scene  is  on  shipboard,  but  this  time  the 
crew  and  many  of  the  passengers  are  Chinese.  The  steamer 
C/iingtx,  which  has  l)een  anchored  for  a  few  hours  in  More- 
ton  Bay.  is  just  starting  on  a  three-weeks  voyage  from  Aus- 
tralia to  China.     Near  by  is  a  little  steam  launch  which  has 


r,38 


THE   I'AKTIN(i   S()N(;. 


come  IVoiii  I'risliaiU',  t<»  \)v\n}x  souio  ))assong'ors ;  and  a  com- 
pany of  oiii-  frit'iids,  wli(»  have  conic  so  far  with  us,  ai'c  wait- 
ing' I'oi-  a  last  good-hy*'. 

The  captain  stands  on  the  deck  talkinn- witli  one  of  the 
passengers.  The  crew  are  liusy  in'  their  several  |»laces,  and 
the  Chinese  passengers  on  the  forward  deck  are  iahhei-in"- 
fast  and  loud.  Three  i)ilgrinis  (»n  the  upper  deck  are  leanirK-- 
over  the  i-ail  for  a  last  lo(»k  at  kind  friends  whom  thev  arc 
leaving,  and,  just  as  the  steaujer  starts,  a  voice  from  the  T</,'- 
*/*^///' strikes  up  the  tune  "(Jod   he  with  you   till   we  meet 


agani. 


A  gentleman  wiio  is  stan<ling  near,  turns  to  the  caj)tain 
and  remarks:  ''  Vou  never  iiad  sucii  a  send-olf  as  this  before, 
did  you  i "'  "  No,"  says  the  cai)tuin,  grullly,  '•  and  1  don't 
want  to  again,"  and  they  both  turn  away  and  walk  to  the 
other  side  of  the  deck,  but,  as  he  turns,  the  cai)tain  cannot 
help  hearing  the  sweet  "  God  be  with  you,"  and  it  may  be 
that  the  words  still  linger  in  his  memory  to  help  him  in  s(mie 
future  hour,  though  ho  cares  not  for  them  now. 

The  few  lirst-class  i)assengers  seem  indifferent,  aiul  the 
Chinamen  on  the  lowei*  deck  cannot  understand  the  song; 
but  to  the  three  pilgrims,  who  are  still  looking  lovino-ly 
across  the  water  as  the  TarHham  sails  away,  the  words  have 
another  precious  memory  associated  with  them,  and  they  lis- 
ten eagerly  till  the  very  last  note  dies  away  in  the  distance. 

IN  JAPAN. 

This  time  the  scene  is  in  a  railway  station  in  Okayama. 
We  have  taken  our  seats  in  the  train,  and  while  we  rejoice  to 
be  facing  homewards,  yet  our  joy  is  tinged  with  sadness  as 
we  say  a  last  good-bye  to  dear  missionary  friends  and  Jap- 
anese friends  alike. 

We  wonder  when  or  where  we  shall  meet  again  these 


THE  SONG   IN  JAFAX   AND   CHINA. 


C.'JI) 


friends  who  are  so  dear  to  us,  when  suddenly,  the  sweet 
notes  of  "  (iod  l)e  with  you  till  we  meet  a<i:ain,"  ring  out  on 
the  air.  .Ia|>an«'se  voices  and  Aniei'ican  V(»ices  taki;  up  the 
strain,  and  tiie  Japanese  railway  "j^uards  st(tp  to  liste'ii.  It  is 
past  the  hour  for  the  ti-ain  to  start,  but  -Japanese  politeness 
will  not  interrupt  the  sweet  yood-ln'e,  and  even  the  "Impe- 
rial Japanese  Railway''  waits  for  that  song. 

As  the  last  *'  (iod  he  with  you  "  dies  away,  the  train  starts 
on  its  journey,  while  tlie  three  pilyi'ims  go  on  their  way 
witii  a  song  in  their  hearts. 

IN  CHINA. 

Tma«;ine  a  larm?  schoolroom  not  very  unlike  an  old- 
fashioned  New  P^ngland  schoolroom.  The  desks  are  not  of 
the  latest  style,  and  the  room  is  not  very  elegant,  but  it  has 
been  prettily  decorated.  On  the  walls  hang  bright-colored 
scrolls,  with  Chinese  characters  inscribed  on  them,  express- 
ing cordial  greetings.  In  the  back  of  the  room  are  ])retty 
floral  decorations,  also  in  Chinese  characters,  giving  a  Chinese 
welcome.  The  rows  of  benches  are  filled  with  bright-eyed 
bovs  and  vountj  men,  dressed  in  Chinese  costume,  and  with 
their  hmg  queues  hanging  down  their  backs. 

In  the  back  of  the  room  are  a  few  Chinese  women,  and 
one  little  Chines  '  baby,  who  has  come  to  this  Christian  En- 
deavor meeting,  })r<jbably  to  represent  Junior  Endeavor. 
The  meeting  is  a  very  interesting  one  though  it  is  all  in 
Chinese,  and  the  little  junior  adds  to  the  interest  by  creeping 
down  the  aisle  and  expressing  his  applause  by  patting  on  the 
platform  with  his  baby  hands. 

Just  before  the  close  of  the  meeting,  some  slips  of  red 
pa^jer  on  which  are  inscribed  some  Chinese  charar;ters,  are 
passed  around  among  the  audience.  A  twelve-year-old 
Chinaman  takes  his  place  at  the  cabinet  organ,  and  the  audi- 
ence all  rise  and  begin  to  sing.     The  complicated  Chinese 


640 


OUR   GOD-SPEED   FROM   INDIA. 


cluinictc'i's  on  the  red  paper  mv  unreadable,  and  the  unpro- 
nounceable words  have  no  meaning  to  American  ears,  but 
there  was  no  mistaking'  the  tune.  Once  more  the  three  pil- 
grims listened  t(^  the  beautiful  '*  God  be  with  vou,"  and 
though  they  could  not  join  in  singing  the  Chinese  words,  yet 
tlu'v  understood  the  tune  and  in  the  s))irit  could  join  in  the 
song.     Then  in  Chinese  and  English,  the  j)rayer  arose, 

"  By  His  (iiunsi'l's  guiilo.  uplioid  you, 
Witli  His  sheep  securely  fold  you. 
Gi>d  be  with  you  till  we  meet  agaiu." 

May  that  prayer  be  answered,  and  may  all  who  sung  it 
that  dav  in  that  great  heathen  citv  be  readv  alwavs  to  fol- 
low  the  teachings  of  the  ''  Good  Shej)herd,''  and  be  led  by 
Ilim  in  the  ])aths  of  righteousness  I 


IN  INDIA. 

It  was  early  morning  in  tlie  little  hill  town  of  Madana- 
])ali,  so  eai'ly  that  even  the  iirst  rays  of  the  sun  could  not 
yet  be  .seen,  and  the  moon  ^"ms  still  shining  bi'iglitly  in  the 
heavens,  h  is  three  o'clock  ...  the  morning,  and  the  three 
pilgi'ims  are  just  starting  on  tlieii'  homewai'd  journey.  The 
laro'c  old-fashioned  missionarv  wau'on.  di'awn  bv  diminutive 
white  (jxen,  stands  at  the  dooi',  for  they  are  seven  miles  from 
the  nearest  I'ailway  station. 

As  tliev  ciiiul)  uj>  '  it<»  tin'  liigh  wagon,  and  start  on  their 
loiiii'  di'ive,  tliev  take  one  last  look  around  them.  How  ciuiet 
and  peaceful  it  all  looks!  There  is  the  mission  Inmgalow 
and  the  long,  low  school  building,  and  the  little  church  on 
the  other  side  t)f  the  com])ound.  Suddenly,  some  ghostly 
fio-ures  rise  before  them  in  the  moonlight  and  surround  the 
watron.  l^efore  thev  have  time  to  be  alarmed,  tliev  recog- 
nize  the  ghosts,  for  these  are  the  boys  from  the  mission 
school.     Drai>ed  in  their  white  clothes,  some  with  white  tur- 


GOD   BE   WITH    vol'    TILL    WE   MEET    AGAIN. 


t;4i 


bans  and  some  with  brown   caps  on  tlieii-  lieads.  tlicv  li  vo 
come  out  at  this  early  h(jur  for  a  hist  gcxxbhyc 

iVs  the  little  white  oxen  start,  the  bovs  i-iin  alonf^  bv  the 
side  of  the  wa<;on.  sinfjinfjf  their  farewell : 

"God  be  witli  yoti  till  we  meet  again. 
"When  life's  peiii.s  tlii(k  confound  you, 
Put  His  loving  arms  around  you, 
God  he  with  you  till  we  meet  iigiiin." 

This  time  the  song-  is  sun«^  in  the  Telugu  tongue.  l)ut  it 
sounds  sweetly  in  the  ears  of  the  ])ilgrims  as  they  i-ide  away 
over  the  hills,  and  they  will  not  soon  forget  the  bright, 
brown-faced  Indian  bovs  who  sun<;  it. 

Many  more  memory  ])ictures  might  be  given  if  time 
and  sj)ace  allowed.  To  these  three  pilgrhns  the  song.  "God 
be  with  you  till  we  meet  again."  will  always  bring  u))  many 
<lelif?htful  memories  of  tln.'ir  iourneviu'i's  in  otiiei'  lands. 


:'^sk:i:^:i 


